YOUR   MONEY    OR 
YOUR    LIFE, 


BY 


EDITH  CARPENTER 


jfflH.  Xtf  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELE 


YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 


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WILLIAM  WALDORF  ASTOR  .  VALENTINO:  AN  HISTORICAL  ROMANCE 
ARLO  BATES       ........    A  WHEEL  OF  FIRE 

H.  H.  BOYBSEN FALCONBERG 

MRS.  BURNETT THAT  LASS  o'  LOWRIB'S 

"         " VAGABONDIA:  A  LOVE  STORY 

G.  W.  CABLE      ......  JOHN  MARCH,  SOUTHERNER 

EDITH  CARPENTER YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

EDWARD  EGGLESTON        .....       .THE CIRCUIT  RIDER 

HAROLD  FREDERIC THE  LAWTON  GIRL 

ROBERT  GRANT FACE  TO  FACE 

MARION  HARLAND    .       .  JUDITH:  A  CHRONICLE  OF  OLD  VIRGINIA 
JOEL  CHANDLER  HARRIS         .       .  FREE  JOE  AND  OTHER  SKETCHES 

JULIAN  HAWTHORNE A  FOOL  OF  NATURE 

J.  G.  HOLLAND  .  .       .  SEVENOAKS:  A  STORY  OF  TO-DAY 

.       .       THB  BAY  PATH:  A  TALE  OF  COLONIAL  LIFE 

.  ARTHUR  BONNICASTLE:  AN  AMERICAN  STORY 

Miss  GILBERT'S  CAREER 

•  "  " NICHOLAS  MINTURN 

COM'R  J.  D.  J.  KELLEY A  DESPERATE  CHANCE 

G.  P.  LATHROP          ......       AN  ECHO  OF  PASSION 

JULIA  MAGRUDER .  ACROSS  THE  CHASM 

BRANDER  MATTHEWS      .....        THE  LAST  MEETING 

DONALD  G.  MITCHELL DREAM  LIFE 

....       REVERIES  OF  A  BACHELOR 

HOWARD  PYLE  .......  WITHIN  THE  CAPES 

"Q"  (A.T.  QUILLER-COUCH)        .       .       .        THE  SPLENDID  SPUR 
...       THE  DELECTABLE  DUCHY 

R.  L.  STEVENSON      . THE' EBB-TIDE 

.......    TREASURE  ISLAND 

"  .......      THE  WRONG  Box 

F.  J.  STIMSON     .........        GUERNDALE 

FRANK  R.  STOCKTON       • RUDDER  GRANGE 

••         .   "  ,       .       .       .        THK  LADY  OR  THE  TIGER 


YOUR  MONEY  OR 
YOUR   LIFE 


A  STORY 


BY 

EDITH   CARPENTER 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
NEW  YORK  1899 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons 


MANHATTAN  PRfSS 

474  W.  BROADWAY 

NEW  YORK 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I  PAGE 

MUTINY, i 

CHAPTER  II 
THE  COST  OF  MONEY, n 

CHAPTER  III 
LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING, 31 

CHAPTER  IV 
A  QUESTION  OF  COURAGE, 53 

CHAPTER  V 
IN  PURSUIT  OF  ADVENTURI, 71 

CHAPTER  VI 
FAIR  LADY, go 

CHAPTER  VII 
A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME, 109 


2125799 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  VIII  PAGE 

BLUFF, 131 

CHAPTER  IX 
A  CHOICE  OF  THREE 153 

CHAPTER  X 
THE  DEN  OF  THIEVES, 178 

CHAPTER  XI 
A  PRISONER, 200 

CHAPTER  XII 
THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE, 223 

CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  LAW'S  COURSE 255 

CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW,      ....    293 

CHAPTER  XV 
YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE? 334 


NOTE 

"Your  Money  or  Your  Life"  obtained 
the  prize  of  $1,000  in  the  story  competi- 
tion instituted  by  The  New  York  Herald 
in  1895 


YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR 
LIFE 

CHAPTER  I 

/ 

MUTINY 

Tom  Norrie  sat  at  his  desk  in  the  great 
office,  with  his  hands  thrust  deep  in  his 
pockets  and  his  eyes  lost  in  space.  All 
about  him  men  were  hard  at  work,  trying  to 
clear  off  the  accumulations  of  the  day  in  the 
brief  hours  left  before  the  day  should  end. 
The  office  boys  ran  to  and  fro,  and  the  type- 
writer girls  were  rattling  their  machines  as  if 
on  a  race  for  a  stake.  Through  the  whole 
great  room  sounded  the  murmurous  hum  of 
work  —  the  scratching  of  pens,  the  rustling 
of  paper,  the  low  consultations  between  one 
clerk  and  another,  the  slamming  together  of 
the  big  books  on  the  bookkeepers'  desks,  the 
steady  reiteration  of  the  stamping-machines 
putting  their  hall-marks  on  the  checks  and 
bills  and  letters  of  the  day. 


2  YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

In  at  the  windows,  flung  wide  to  ease  the 
oppressive  heat,  came  the  reverberant  noises 
of  the  street,  increasing  thunderously  to 
drown  the  lesser  murmur  of  the  office  as 
some  heavy  brewer's  dray  went  pounding  by, 
then  lulled  to  a  momentary,  low  drone, 
above  which  could  be  heard  each  movement 
within.  Across  the  street  the  brick  build- 
ings were  blinding  in  the  full  sunshine,  and 
men  passed  in  their  white  shirt -sleeves,  puff- 
ing, and  mopping  their  faces.  Yet  the  glare 
and  dust  and  heat  were  not  those  of  mid- 
summer ;  even  in  the  heart  of  the  city  the 
breeze  that  now  and  then  fluttered  through 
the  windows,  making  a  quick  stir  over  all  the 
desks,  and  cooling  the  hot  heads  of  toiling 
clerks,  brought  with  it  the  breath  of  spring, 
almost  an  odor  of  the  fields  and  woods,  a 
moving  suggestion  of  new  life  and  vigor  and 
gladness. 

Tom  Norrie's  desk  was  a  confusion  of 
loose  papers  —  the  letters  of  the  morning, 
with  their  typewritten  answers  now  waiting 
his  approval,  bills  and  orders  to  be  passed 
upon,  a  small  pile  of  checks  to  be  signed, 
plans  and  specifications  for  the  new  factories 
to  be  gone  through,  a  hundred  matters  that 
pressed  for  his  speedy  notice.  His  was  that 


MUTINY  3 

orderly  business  habit  that  tolerated  no 
postponement.  One  day's  work  put  off  un- 
til another  kept  him  awake  at  night  and 
gave  him  a  feverish  impetus  wherewith  to 
put  twelve  hours'  work  into  the  next  day's 
nine.  Many  things  had  worried  him  of  late, 
but  nothing  worried  him  so  much  as  ragged 
edges  of  unfinished  business.  He  made  in  his 
thoughts,  instinctively,  a  picture  of  each  day, 
as  it  passed,  and  the  pictures  of  those  days 
when  he  did  not  do  all  that  was  brought  him 
to  do  were  like  untidy  rooms,  comfortless  and 
dismal,  or  like  a  shiftless  garden  where  the 
peas  slopped  into  the  beans,  and  the  beans 
trailed  into  the  strawberries,  and  weeds  grew 
everywhere.  He  took  charge  himself  of  the 
garden  at  the  family  country  place — a  garden 
concealed  by  hedges  and  vine-covered  trel- 
lises, and  divided  into  the  most  exact  of  rec- 
tangular beds,  with  the  straightest  of  neat 
paths  between.  Many  unfortunate  gardeners 
and  gardeners'  boys  had  been  parted  with 
because  their  conceptions  of  their  art  placed 
the  welfare  of  the  garden's  contents  above 
the  perfectness  of  the  garden's  form.  But 
to  Tom  Norrie  order  had  come  to  be  more 
than  the  heart  of  the  matter,  whether  in  hor- 
ticulture or  business,  and  in  his  grinding 


4  YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

at  detail  he  had  lost  his  larger  sense  of  the 
plan. 

Yet  to-day  his  desk  lay  piled  with  papers, 
and  he  sat  inert  before  it,  with  his  hands  in 
his  pockets.  It  was  long  after  three.  An 
office  boy  brought  more  papers  and  laid 
them  before  him,  and  looked  at  him  with 
round  eyes  of  astonishment.  The  afternoon 
mail  was  placed  upon  his  desk,  but  appeared 
to  concern  him  not  at  all.  When  the  breeze 
came  in  he  sniffed  it  absently,  and  this  was 
the  only  sign  of  life  he  gave.  The  clerks 
near  by  began  to  look  at  him,  and  then  at 
each  other  furtively,  with  little  smiles. 
Their  young  chief  had  gone  out  at  eleven, 
and  had  not  come  back  until  after  two  ;  yet 
in  the  hour  or  more  since  that  he  had  sat 
there  at  his  desk,  with  various  important 
matters  delayed  till  he  should  give  them  his 
notice,  he  had  not  lifted  a  hand  to  his  work. 
They  looked  in  through  the  glass  walls  of  the 
private  office,  where  sat  the  two  senior  part- 
ners, and  wondered  when  this  curious  aber- 
ration would  receive  its  fitting  attention  from 
headquarters. 

Tom  Nome  sniffed  the  breeze,  and  pres- 
ently, catching  an  odor  foreign  to  it,  he  too 
turned  his  head — he  had  not  stirred  before 


MUTINY  5 

for  an  hour — and  looked  into  that  inner 
sanctum.  His  father,  a  pale,  spare  man,  ner- 
vous, yet  silent,  was  bending  busily  over  his 
desk  with  his  back  towards  the  office.  The 
other  partner  was  stout,  but  very  tall,  with 
heavy  black  hair  and  mustache  and  a  scowling 
brow — a  physical  make-up  that  fully  justified 
the  nickname  of  "Bull,"  by  which  he  was 
known  to  his  subordinates.  His  name,  be- 
sides, was  Trumbull,  and  his  function  in  the 
partnership  was  to  originate  all  new  schemes, 
and  to  increase  the  already  enormous  busi- 
ness as  much  as  the  cautious  conservatism 
of  his  partner,  the  "Bear,"  would  permit. 
The  Bull  had  just  taken  off  his  thin  office 
coat  and  with  his  red  face  in  high  contrast 
to  his  white  shirt  -  sleeves,  sat  smoking  a 
cigar  for  the  relief  of  his  overheated  bulk. 
Tom  Norrie,  too,  liked  a  cigar,  but  it  was 
one  of  the  rules  of  the  office  that  no  smoking 
should  be  done  outside  the  glass  partition. 
For  four  years  now  he  had  been  a  partner, 
yet  still  was  given  no  more  liberty  than  when 
he  first  entered  the  office,  a  boy  of  twenty- 
one.  The  Bull  and  the  Bear  were  both  au- 
tocrats in  the  first  degree,  their  difference 
being  that  one  was  a  blustering,  progressive 
autocrat,  and  the  other  a  quiet,  retrogres- 


6  YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

sive  one.  The  unlikeness  of  their  methods 
was  followed  by  perfect  likeness  in  results — 
neither  was  ever  disobeyed.  The  clerks  in 
the  employ  of  Norrie,  Trumbull  &  Co.,  one 
or  two  of  them  now  men  of  fifty  and  sixty, 
lived  a  life  of  terror  and  suppression,  and 
were  treated  like  insubordinate  boys  in  a 
boarding-school.  They  all  derived  some 
comfort  from  the  fact  that  Thomas  Norris, 
Jr. ,  was  no  better  off  than  they,  and  looked 
on  with  discreet  pleasure  when  now  and 
then  he  fell  foul  of  the  authorities  and  met  at 
their  hands  his  merited  chastisement. 

But  to-day,  when  the  young  man  had 
sniffed  for  a  moment  the  pleasing  odor  of 
the  Bull's  excellent  cigar,  he  drew  one  from 
his  own  pocket  and  calmly  lit  it.  As  he 
smoked  he  resumed  his  contemplations,  and 
the  office,  thrilled  with  excitement  by  his 
foolhardy  act,  was  obliged  to  keep  at  work 
when  that  act  was  followed  only  by  calm. 
Yet  those  whose  desks  were  nearest  the  pri- 
vate room  soon  became  aware  of  signs  of  un- 
easiness within,  and  this  significant  fact  was 
quickly  transmitted  from  one  to  another  by 
meaning  flashes  of  the  eye.  The  Bull  was 
roused  at  last.  He  saw  Tom's  cigar,  he  saw 
his  heaped-up  desk,  he  saw  the  young  man's 


MUTINY  7 

hands  in  his  pockets.  The  atmosphere  of  the 
office  became,  as  it  were,  charged  with  ner- 
vous anticipation  of  the  upheaval  to  follow, 
but  Tom  smoked  on,  all  unconscious,  appar- 
ently, of  these  electric  omens  in  the  air. 
Presently  the  Bull  rose  and  stalking  forth 
from  his  fastness  stopped  at  Tom's  desk. 
Tom,  tilted  back  in  his  chair,  did  not  change 
his  position  nor  remove  his  hands  from  his 
pockets,  but  regarded  Mr.  Trumbull's  frown- 
ing face  with  perfect  serenity. 

"  Are  you  going  to  have  time  this  after- 
noon to  see  the  Slosson  Company  about  their 
orders  ?  ' '  growled  the  elder  man. 

"No,  I  don't  think  I  am,"  replied  Tom, 
sweetly.  He  looked  straight  in  the  Bull's 
face  with  a  pleasant  smile. 

"It's  the  most  serious  affair  you've  got  on 
hand.  While  you're  twirling  your  thumbs 
Roberts  will  get  in  ahead  and  get  the  or- 
ders." 

"I'm  in  no  hurry,"  said  Tom.  "I'm 
willing  Roberts  should  get  the  orders  if  he 
wants  them — I've  something  more  important 
to  do,"  he  added  after  a  moment. 

"You'd  better  be  about  it  then."  The 
Bull's  voice  had  an  ominous  sound. 

"I'm  going  to  when  I've  finished  my  ci- 


8  YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

gar,"  returned  Tom,  tranquilly.  "  Hot 
day,  isn't  it?  Good  day  to  get  into  the 
country. ' ' 

The  Bull  said  nothing.  He  merely  glared 
at  Tom  with  an  expression  that  suggested 
biting  his  head  off.  Then  he  went  across 
the  room,  by  rows  of  trembling  clerks,  who 
bent  busily  over  their  desks  as  he  passed,  and 
blew  up  the  head  bookkeeper,  until  the  whole 
office  turned  pale  and  the  smoke  of  warfare 
was  almost  visible.  As  he  returned,  his  face 
redder  than  ever,  he  looked  again  at  Tom's 
desk. 

"  Merriam,"  he  called  out  to  a  man  near 
the  back  of  the  room,  "  come  over  here  and 
do  Mr.  Nome's  work  for  him.  He  has  some- 
thing more  important  to  do." 

"  Oh,  thanks,"  said  Tom,  urbanely,  while 
Merriam  rose  and  stood  hesitating.  "  That's 
very  kind,  Mr.  Trumbull.  It  would  be  a 
convenience  to  have  Merriam  do  my  work 
this  afternoon.  I've  got  to  go  out  in  a 
minute. ' ' 

Merriam  came  and  stood  by  his  desk. 

"  Just  wait  a  minute,"  said  Tom,  and  with 
the  Bull  still  glaring  at  him  from  the  door  of 
the  private  office,  he  pushed  the  papers  before 
him  aside,  leaned  forward,  and  wrote  a  brief 


MUTINY  9 

note.  He  rose  as  he  finished  it,  put  it  in 
his  pocket,  and  flung  away  his  cigar.  ' '  You'  11 
find  plenty  to  do  there,  Merriam,"  he  said 
to  the  old  confidential  clerk,  who  stood  pale 
and  patient,  looking  down  at  the  cluttered 
papers.  "  You'd  better  have  Atchison  leave 
his  estimates  and  help  you,  or  it'll  take  you 
all  night." 

The  young  man  took  his  hat  from  the  rack 
and  went  into  the  private  office.  The  Bull 
stood  by  his  desk,  his  face  like  a  thunder- 
cloud, but  Tom  had  the  air  of  not  seeing 
him.  "Just  tell  the  girls  not  to  expect  me 
to-night,  will  you,  father  ?  "  he  said.  "I'm 
not  going  home."  His  father,  who  had 
been  too  busy  to  take  in  the  events  of  the 
previous  ten  minutes,  looked  up  in  surprise. 

' '  Where  are  you  bound  for  at  this  time  of 
day?  "  he  inquired,  pertinently. 

The  Bull  pricked  up  his  ears  for  the  an- 
swer. 

"  I'm  going  for  a  Turkish  bath,"  said 
Tom,  in  a  clear  and  tranquil  voice. 
"Beastly  hot  day." 

His  father  gasped  for  speech.  So  did  the 
Bull.  The  whole  office  had  heard  through 
the  open  door,  and  shivered  and  thrilled 
with  emotion. 


io          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"I  wouldn't  stay  and  work  too  long," 
said  Tom,  in  the  same  clear  voice,  to  the 
Bull  and  Bear.  "  It's  too  hot  to  work. 
Better  give  the  office  a  holiday." 

With  that  he  left  them,  stopped  a  moment 
at  his  desk  to  speak  again  to  Merriam  and 
give  him  his  keys,  then  walked  to  the  door. 

"  Tom  !  "  called  his  father,  weak  with  as- 
tonishment, but  Tom  did  not  look  round. 

"  Norrie !  "  thundered  the  Bull  in  his 
deepest  tones,  starting  after  him. 

But  Tom  walked  on  into  the  street,  as  if 
he  heard  nothing,  and  the  Bull  halted  mid- 
way to  the  door,  then  turned  back  hastily 
and  ignominiously  to  his  sanctum,  while  a 
suppressed  smile  of  joy  and  triumph  lit  the 
face  of  every  clerk  in  the  room.  Tom 
passed  by  the  windows,  whistling  lightly  a 
popular  song.  He  did  not  look  in,  but  they 
all  looked  out  at  him — even  the  Bull  and 
Bear — and  as  he  was  not  visible  again  for 
many  weary  work  days  to  the  firm  of  Norrie, 
Trumbull  &  Co.,  they  none  of  them  forgot 
how  boyish  and  nonchalant  and  gay  he 
looked  as  he  went  along  the  street  that  hot 
afternoon  of  early  spring — "the  hottest 
April  day  in  twenty-five  years,"  as  they  all 
learned  later  from  their  evening  papers. 


THE   COST   OF   MONEY 

Upon  leaving  behind  him  the  plate-glass 
windows  of  the  great  money-getting  prison 
where  he  had  spent  in  drudgery  eight  of  the 
best  years  of  his  life,  Tom  Nome's  first  con- 
cern was  to  call  up  a  messenger-boy.  This 
red-cheeked  young  rascal  he  despatched  upon 
his  errand  with  a  great  particularity  of  ver- 
bal instructions  to  supplement  the  note  he 
had  written.  Then  with  his  mind  clear  of 
care,  he  walked  on  to  the  main  thorough- 
fare of  the  busy  city,  and  leisurely  followed 
that  somewhat  shabby  street  until  he  came 
to  the  Turkish  and  Russian  baths.  After 
some  two  hours  he  emerged,  took  the  hansom 
which  waited  in  response  to  his  telephone 
call,  and  was  driven  to  his  club.  Here,  as 
he  alighted  from  the  cab,  an  ancient  negro 
serving-man  awaited  him  upon  the  pavement 

"  Well,  Thaddeus,  you  got  my  message  ?  " 
said  Tom. 


12          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  Yessir,  an'  I  done  lef  you  t'ings  to  de 
station,  Mr.  Tom,"  replied  Thaddeus,  his 
bald  head  of  polished  bronze  bared  to  the 
warm  breezes. 

"You're  sure  you  got  everything  I  shall 
want?" 

"Yessir;  I  berry  partic'lar,  Mr.  Tom." 

' '  And  you  kept  your  mouth  shut  ? ' ' 

"  You  knows  I  don'  do  no  talkin',  Mr. 
Tom,"  said  Thaddeus,  with  dignity;— 
"  'specially  to  dem  white  ladies." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  you've  a  proper  scorn 
for  their  color,  Thaddeus,"  said  Tom  with 
a  laugh,  "  though  I  wasn't  aware  that  white 
ladies  of  the  kitchen  were  any  more  given 
to  conversation  than  black  ones." 

"  If  you  don'  want  you'  folks  to  know 
what  I  been  about,  Mr.  Tom,  I  better  be 
a-gettin'  back,  afore  you'  fader  comes  home 
to  his  supper. ' ' 

"All  right,  Thaddeus,  and  here's  a  re- 
tainer for  your  discretion.  Mind,  whatever 
happens,  you  don't  know  anything  about 
me!  " 

"  I  habn't  seen  or  heard  nuffin  ob  you 
since  I  done  gib  you  you'  breakfus  dis  morn- 
in',  Mr.  Tom,"  declared  Thaddeus,  gravely 
shaking  his  head.  The  fringe  of  short  white 


THE  COST  OF  MONEY  13 

wool  circling  its  bronze  knob  gave  him  a 
venerable  aspect,  and  in  the  gravity  and  age 
of  his  countenance  there  was  an  expression 
of  great  benevolence — an  expression  possibly 
heightened  by  the  shining  yellow  disk  that 
lay  in  the  copper-colored  palm  of  his  hand, 
and  which  he  regarded  covertly,  as  if  in  fear 
that  it  might  not  be  all  that  its  color  and 
size  seemed  to  indicate. 

"That's  right,"  said  Tom,  laughing,  as 
he  went  up  the  club  steps. 

But  Thaddeus  did  not  yet  go.  "  Mr. 
Tom,"  he  said  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 

Tom  turned.     "Well?" 

"  I — I  hope,  Mr.  Tom,  you  be  careful  ob 
youse'f." 

"  Why,  yes,  Thaddeus.  Why  should  you 
think  I  wouldn't  ?  "  said  Tom,  amused. 

"You — you's  a  fine  young  man,  Mr. 
Tom,  dough  I  say  it  as  shouldn't,  since  I 
mos'ly  brought  you  up  myse'f.  You  don' 
want  to  begin  now  and  do  anyting  you  be 
sorry  for.  I  notice  dese  last  week  or  two 
dat  sumfin's  up — you  ain't  been  youse'f,  Mr. 
Tom." 

"  Oh,  well,  Thaddeus,  I'm  all  right ;  you 
needn't  worry,"  said  Tom,  kindly.  He 
was  touched  at  the  old  man's  perception, 


14          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

and  laughed  a  little  bitterly  at  the  thought 
that  Thaddeus  was,  without  doubt,  the  only 
person  who  had  observed  the  phenomena  of 
his  emotions.  He  diverted  his  mind,  how- 
ever, from  this  rather  melancholy  reflection 
by  an  intimate  consultation  with  his  favorite 
waiter  at  the  club  as  to  what  he  should  have 
for  his  dinner. 

"  At  seven  o'clock  sharp,"  he  said,  when 
this  matter  was  settled  to  his  satisfaction, 
and  he  left  the  cafe. 

"Mr.  Nome's  a  very  fine  epicure,"  said 
Ambrose,  admiringly,  to  Philippe,  as  they 
watched  Tom  down  the  steps. 

"Yes,"  said  Philippe,  in  the  same  tone, 
to  Ambrose.  "And  they  say  he's  the 
member  that  puts  all  the  five  dollar  gold 
pieces  in  the  Christmas-box.  Cooky  ought 
to  look  out  for  him." 

"  Cooky  always  does,"  returned  Ambrose 
as  he  went  off  to  consult  with  that  important 
functionary. 

Tom  strolled  up  the  wide  street,  in  the 
pleasant  cool  of  the  spring  evening,  until  he 
came  to  the  railway  station.  He  bought  a 
ticket  for  Chicago,  took  a  drawing-room 
section  on  the  night  train,  and  arranged 
about  the  luggage  which  Thaddeus  had  left 


THE  COST  OF  MONEY  15 

for  him.  Then  he  strolled  back  as  he  had 
come  to  the  club,  seeing  no  one,  but  lost  in 
his  contemplations  as  he  had  been  through- 
out the  whole  day.  The  evening  papers  had 
no  interest  for  him,  and  his  friends  were  un- 
observed or  barely  nodded  to.  During  the 
hour  that  he  waited  for  his  dinner,  he  sat 
by  a  window,  in  a  luxurious  low  chair,  gaz- 
ing up  into  the  mellow  tones  of  the  twilight 
sky  ;  and  his  silent  but  epicurean  feast  con- 
sumed, he  returned  to  this  chair,  and  sat 
there  with  his  cigar  throughout  the  evening, 
until  it  came  time  to  go  to  the  train,  only  be- 
stirring himself  when  one  cigar  was  finished 
and  it  became  necessary  to  light  another. 

Tom  Norrie  had  come  that  day  to  a  mo- 
mentous decision,  and  now,  in  the  light  of 
it,  was  reviewing  his  past  life,  considering 
life  in  general,  what  its  meaning  was,  and 
what  might  make  it  worth  while,  and  look- 
ing forward  into  his  future — first  the  im- 
mediate future,  then  all  that  lay  beyond, 
the  years  of  his  life  yet  to  be  lived. 

He  had  been  graduated  from  college  at 
twenty-one,  had  spent  that  summer  abroad, 
and  had  come  home  in  September  to  plunge 
at  once  into  "the  business" — his  father's 
business  and  his  grandfather's  business,  the 


1 6          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

business  of  his  two  uncles  now  retired,  and 
of  a  crop  of  cousins,  both  younger  and 
older  than  himself.  The  young  men  of  the 
family  were  drawn  into  it  one  by  one  as 
they  grew  up ;  they  had  to  leave  pleasure 
and  self-improvement  and  all  else  behind,  to 
give  their  lives  into  the  greedy  maw  of  this 
insatiable  creature.  Tom  could  think  of  it 
in  no  other  way  but  as  a  great  devouring 
beast,  thirsting  for  human  lives,  sucking  all 
the  sweetness  and  value  out  of  them,  taking 
their  youth,  and  strength  and  vigor,  jeal- 
ously exacting  every  whit — and  giving  what 
in  exchange? — money — miserable  money, 
bought  with  life-blood,  paid  for  at  usury, 
and  at  a  rate  so  high  that  nothing  was  left 
with  which  to  enjoy  it.  He  had  given  so 
much  for  his  dollars  that  he  despised  them. 
He  had  a  thousand  of  them  in  his  pocket 
now,  and  he  liked  to  throw  them  away,  and 
show  himself  how  little  they  were  worth — 
how  lightly  he  estimated  what  he  had  given 
his  manhood  for. 

Yes,  his  manhood — no  less.  He  had 
been  a  brave  and  happy  boy,  ready  for 
everything,  afraid  of  nothing,  full  of  inter- 
ests, eager  for  the  tussle  with  life.  He  had 
had  his  tussle  and  been  broken.  At  twenty- 


THE  COST  OF  MONEY  17 

nine  he  was  nervous  and  dyspeptic — tired 
out.  He  could  not  sleep  at  night,  things 
worried  him.  He  was  cautious,  unwilling 
to  take  risks,  afraid  of  responsibility — yes, 
as  Janet  had  told  him,  in  so  many  words, 
he,  Tom  Norrie,  was  a  coward.  He  had 
not  seen  it  before  she  told  him,  nor  would 
he  admit  it  to  her ;  but  now,  to  himself,  he 
admitted  it  all.  He  was  fussy,  fidgety, 
methodical,  a  very  old  granny  in  all  his 
habits  and  ways. 

He  had  not  been  like  that  eight  years  ago 
— it  was  the  business  that  had  done  it,  the 
great  relentless  creature  that  had  ground  him 
down  to  its  uses  and  ruined  his  life.  He 
thought  of  his  college  days,  his  gay  life 
with  his  comrades,  his  pleasures  in  the  col- 
lege sports,  his  love  of  boating  and  riding 
and  all  else  that  one  could  do  in  the  great 
out-of-doors.  He  was  not  an  athlete,  but  he 
was  wiry,  quick  and  dexterous,  and  had  a 
natural  knack  at  handling  himself  and  his 
tool  of  the  moment — the  boat,  the  horse,  the 
racket,  or  cricket-bat.  Then,  besides,  he  en- 
joyed his  books — he  was  no  scholar,  but 
neither  was  he  a  dunce,  and  he  liked  read- 
ing and  had  great  plans  of  what  he  would 
do  in  that  way  when  college  was  over  and 
2 


1 8          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

he  had  more  time.  He  meant  to  travel, 
too,  and  see  life,  and  know  the  world.  His 
trip  to  Europe  was  in  his  mind  but  a  fore- 
taste of  future  excursions  in  which  he  should 
explore  one  country  after  another,  and  get 
to  know  them  intimately.  He  had  the  true 
traveller's  instinct — an  unflagging  interest  in 
things  new  and  strange,  a  quick  eye  for  pict- 
uresque differences  of  costume  or  manner,  a 
delight  in  people  in  themselves,  their  indi- 
vidualities and  eccentricities,  a  fine  capacity 
for  not  being  at  all  annoyed  by  things  that 
at  home  would  annoy  him  beyond  measure, 
and  a  capacity  still  greater  for  never  being 
bored.  He  had,  too,  in  those  days,  an  ad- 
venturous spirit — he  liked  a  sense  of  risk  in 
the  undertaking,  and  the  danger  which 
brought  all  his  blood  to  his  heart  never 
shook  his  nerve.  Now — well,  he  was  an  old 
man  before  his  time.  The  great  relentless 
machine  that  had  taken  all  this  from  him, 
crushed  out  the  sap  of  the  tree,  and  left  a 
lifeless  pulp,  had  paid  him  in  worthless  dol- 
lars— dollars  that  could  not  buy  back  a  tithe 
of  what  he  had  lost. 

He  could  never  forget  the  first  process  of 
this  change,  the  nightmare  of  his  first  year 
in  the  business.  Two  days  after  his  arrival 


THE  COST  OF  MONEY  19 

home  from  Europe  his  father  sent  him  down 
to  the  office,  telling  him  he  had  played  long 
enough,  that  now  he  was  a  man,  and  life 
and  work  must  begin  for  him.  He  was  at 
once  set  to  making  out  bills.  He  reached 
the  office  at  eight  o'clock,  and  made  out 
bills  until  half-past  twelve.  He  had  then  an 
hour  for  his  dinner,  and  came  back  and 
made  out  bills  again  until  six.  Then  he 
went  home  to  supper,  and  was  so  fagged 
with  the  unwonted  confinement,  nine  hours 
sitting  at  a  desk,  that  he  often  went  igno- 
miniously  to  bed  at  half-past  eight,  or  even 
earlier. 

"  I  shall  soon  get  used  to  it,"  he  thought, 
hopefully.  "  Then  I  can  read  in  my  even- 
ings, and  get  on  with  the  things  I  want  to 
do." 

But  it  was  not  so  easy,  after  all,  to  get 
used  to  it.  When  two  or  three  months 
were  gone  he  was  still  as  sleepy  and  jaded 
after  each  day's  drudgery  as  he  had  been  at 
the  start.  His  reading  was  uphill  work, 
and  ended  in  yawns ;  then  he  would  throw 
down  the  dry  volume  of  history,  and  take  a 
novel,  and  lose  himself  in  this  if  he  could. 
If  he  were  only  able  to  forget  everything 
for  a  few  hours  he  did  not  mind  how  much 


20          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

sleep  he  lost,  or  how  bad  a  headache  he  had 
the  next  day.  He  longed  for  work  with. in- 
terest in  it,  something  he  could  think  about, 
put  mind  and  energy  into,  and  thus  get  from 
it  some  enjoyment.  To  make  out  bills  all 
day,  every  day,  grew  more  and  more  ter- 
rible. It  became  perfectly  mechanical, 
mere  hand  and  eye  work,  that  left  him 
nine  blank  hours  in  which  to  think.  It  was 
from  his  thoughts  that  he  longed  to  get 
away.  "  Is  this  to  be  the  end  of  all  my  am- 
bitions ?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  Is  all  my  life 
to  be  like  this  ?  Must  I  work  away  at  busi- 
ness, business,  the  sordid  details  of  money- 
getting,  till  I  am  an  old  man  ?  Shall  I  grow 
middle-aged  and  elderly  doing  this  sort  of 
drudgery?  Shall  I  still  be  doing  it,  like  my 
father,  when  I  am  sixty?  Is  that  what  life 
means?  Is  that  what  I  was  born  for,  ed- 
ucated for  ?  What  is  the  good  ?  What 
makes  it  worth  while?  Why  isn't  it  better 
to  die  than  be  such  a  slave  ?  ' ' 

His  depression  was  terrible,  and  wholly 
mastered  him.  He  was  unable  to  force  him- 
self out  of  the  dull  silence  of  a  fixed  gloom. 
His  family  thought  he  was  sobering  down 
very  quickly,  but,  busy  with  other  things, 
took  little  notice  of  his  mood,  and  never  un- 


THE  COST  OF  MONEY  21 

derstood  the  nightmare  his  life  was  to  him — 
the  intense  loathing  he  had  for  his  work  and 
all  related  to  it.  He  was  surrounded  by  the 
commercial  atmosphere.  "  Business  "  was 
so  much  a  matter  of  course  to  every  one 
about  him  that  he  knew  he  could  hope  for 
no  sympathy,  and  so  kept  his  blue  devils  to 
himself.  Had  not  the  family  in  all  its 
branches  been  made  by  business  ?  Was  not 
all  they  had  due  to  it  ?  Did  they  not  owe 
to  it  not  alone  their  life  and  breath,  their 
food  and  drink,  but  also  their  pleasure,  their 
position,  everything  ?  Was  not  the  very 
city  in  which  they  lived  redolent  of  busi- 
ness, flavored  as  it  were  with  the  essential 
extract  of  trade,  commercial  to  its  marrow  ? 
How  he  hated  it — the  narrow,  ugly  streets, 
the  flatness,  the  miles  of  brick  houses,  all 
alike,  all  hideous,  stretching  into  hideous 
suburbs,  where  the  brick  boxes  gave  place  to 
architectural  horrors  in  party-colored  stone 
— a  city  of  Philistinism,  of  vulgarity,  rich 
and  poor  confounded  in  one  garment  of  sor- 
did mediocrity. 

It  seemed  to  him  there  could  be  no  charm 
or  beauty  in  life  amid  such  surroundings, 
amid  such  a  people.  He  let  himself  hate  the 
people  together  with  the  town  they  lived 


22          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

in.  His  real  friends  were  his  old  college 
mates,  scattered  now  about  the  world,  and 
none  near  him.  He  made  no  new  intimates 
here.  His  cousins,  whom  he  saw  daily,  were 
objects  of  a  fascinated  contemplation  with 
him.  What  could  they  find  in  the  dull  rou- 
tine of  their  lives  to  make  it  possible  to  live, 
and  apparently  be  happy  ?  They  seemed  to 
think  of  nothing  but  dollars,  bargains, 
shrewd  transactions  of  one  sort  or  another. 
They  had  no  ideas,  and  not  feeling  the  lack 
of  them  never  even  read  books  to  assimilate 
those  of  others.  Their  political  and  relig- 
ious opinions  were  to  Tom  bigoted  anachro- 
nisms, impossible  even  of  peaceable  discus- 
sion. Their  very  wives,  absorbed  and  worried 
with  housekeeping  cares,  and  their  children, 
noisy,  pert  and  forever  underfoot,  struck 
this  morbid  youth  as  too  vulgar  and  odious 
to  be  endured.  It  seemed  to  him  almost  a 
crime  to  perpetuate  so  much  that  was  unlove- 
ly in  large  families  of  robust  infants,  who 
would  grow  up  to  lead  the  same  lives  and 
hand  on  the  same  dismal  inheritance  to  suc- 
cessive generations. 

But  this  year  of  misery  and  morbidness 
passed  at  last.  Tom  received  three  hundred 
dollars  for  his  work ;  and  had,  in  July,  two 


THE  COST  OF   MONEY  23 

weeks  of  vacation.  How  he  looked  forward 
to  that  vacation  !  What  hopes  he  had  of  ease 
and  pleasure,  of  freshening  his  mind,  tak- 
ing a  new  start,  getting  up  his  courage  for 
another  year.  He  would  rest  a  little  first, 
somewhere  in  grassy  woods,  far  away  from 
the  city,  and  all  the  city  noise  and  turmoil. 
Then,  after  a  day  or  two  lying  on  his  back 
under  the  trees  and  looking  up  through  the 
leaves  at  the  clear  sky,  he  would  map  out  his 
year  before  him,  resolve  to  do  certain  work, 
begin  upon  it  then  and  there,  and  carry  it 
out  in  spite  of  all  the  sluggish  weariness 
that  might  beset  him.  He  would  not  throw 
his  life  away — become  a  mere  machine  for 
doing  figures — he  would  save  a  little  of  his 
force  for  his  own  use,  rescue  his  waning  in- 
terests, and  keep  some  life  of  his  own  beyond 
the  clutches  of  the  greedy,  jealous  creature 
that  wanted  all  he  had. 

So  he  planned,  looking  forward  to  that 
fortnight  with  an  almost  painful  eagerness, 
as  to  the  only  fountain  in  an  arid  desert — 
his  only  chance  for  life.  It  came  at  last, 
and  then  in  a  mere  instant  it  was  gone,  and 
somehow  he  had  done  nothing.  He  could 
never  understand  it.  Was  the  reaction  too 
great  after  so  many  weeks  of  work  ?  Was  his 


24         YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

mind  as  flabby  as  he  found  his  arm  when  he 
tried  to  play  at  tennis  ?  It  seemed  to  him 
afterwards  that  those  two  weeks  had  gone  in 
a  dream,  mere  dead  lethargy,  out  of  which 
he  could  not  lift  himself.  He  had  dropped  to 
the  ground  with  a  great  sigh  of  relief,  and 
when  he  was  able  at  last  to  rouse  himself 
the  precious  days  were  gone,  the  oasis  was 
behind  him,  the  cruel  desert  before  him, 
and  another  long,  dreary  journey,  for  which 
he  had  no  heart. 

This  disappointment  left  him  more  dis- 
couraged than  ever,  and  even  the  great  relief 
of  a  change  in  his  work  could  not  hearten 
him.  He  no  longer  made  bills  all  day  every 
day,  yet  the  work  he  did  do  was  as  dead  and 
meaningless.  Nine  hours  of  it  left  him  phy- 
sically too  tired  for  anything  but  the  light- 
est distraction  in  the  evening,  and  hence  the 
seeking  of  such  distraction  became  with  him 
a  pursuit.  If  he  could  only  forget  what  he 
had  expected  life  to  be  he  might  be  able  to 
endure  what  it  was  ! 

Thus  he  became  gradually  a  club  man,  a 
society  man — anything  to  occupy  his  time  and 
deaden  his  thoughts.  The  atmosphere  of  do- 
mesticity about  his  cousins,  their  too  obvious 
flavor  of  bread  and  butter,  the  suburban  sor- 


THE  COST  OF  MONEY  25 

didness  of  their  matrimonial  joys,  drove  him 
into  revolt.  By  way  of  uttering  his  protest 
against  their  provincial  manners,  he  attired 
himself  nightly  in  evening  costume  and  as- 
sumed so  far  as  he  might  the  habits  of  a 
more  cosmopolitan  world.  This  immediately 
brought  upon  him  in  the  family  circle  the 
accusation  of  being  fast ;  it  was  even  darkly 
hinted  that  he  drank  wine  and  was  on  his 
way  to  become  a  cynical  man  of  the  world. 
The  futility  of  the  charge  was  proved  by  the 
young  man's  delight  in  it  and  his  eagerness 
to  make  the  fact  patent  to  all  his  relatives. 
He  made  formal  evening  calls  from  time  to 
time  at  their  houses,  where  he  refused  the 
discomfort  incident  to  being  made  "one  of 
the  family,"  preferred  the  quiet  of  the  stiff 
little  parlors  to  the  hubbub  of  the  general 
sitting-rooms,  ignored  the  children  if  they 
were  allowed  to  appear,  and  became  silent 
and  changed  the  subject  if  they  or  the  ser- 
vants or  family  gossip  were  introduced  into 
the  conversation,  which  he  insisted  on  keep- 
ing upon  high  general  planes  of  literature, 
music,  and  art.  He  admitted  on  these  occa- 
sions grave  doubts  in  regard  both  to  mar- 
riage and  religion,  and  delivered  himself  of 
sundry  cheap  cynicisms  about  women,  after 


26          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

what  he  thought  the  true  manner  of  a  real 
man  of  the  world.  In  short,  for  the  time 
being  he  forgot  his  sense  of  humor  in  this 
worldly  pose,  while  he  succeeded  only  in 
making  himself  extremely  disagreeable.  Per- 
haps, after  all,  the  most  obnoxious  prig  is  the 
modern  sort,  who  rejects  instead  of  uphold- 
ing the  faith  of  his  fathers  and  represents 
himself  as  shocked  by  the  old  ideas  instead 
of  by  the  new.  For  there  may  easily  be  "  a 
priggishness  in  avoiding  priggishness ;  when 
men  think  to  do  best  if  they  go  furthest  from 
the  priggishness  formerly  received." 

But  at  least  Tom's  mind  was  occupied  by 
those  doubtful  pleasantries,  nor  was  it  long 
before  he  began  to  see  the  ludicrous  side  of 
taking  himself  so  seriously.  For  as  time 
went  on  the  first  morbidness  of  his  misery 
inevitably  passed  away,  and  with  the  re- 
turn of  a  more  healthy  tone  of  mind  his 
really  excellent  sense  of  humor  reasserted 
itself.  Humor  is  the  basis  of  common  sense, 
and,  indeed,  of  most  of  the  virtues  which 
make  people  easy  to  live  with,  and  their 
own  lives  possible  to  themselves.  Tom  be- 
gan to  see  that  it  was  necessary  to  occupy 
himself  fully  in  all  his  leisure  moments,  ra- 
tionally or  irrationally,  as  the  case  might 


THE  COST  OF  MONEY  27 

be.  The  main  thing  was  to  be  occupied, 
and  this,  at  last,  he  succeeded  in  accomplish- 
ing without  the  sense  of  working  for  it.  He 
got  to  know  quantities  of  people — he  had 
engagements  with  them,  which  he  kept  re- 
ligiously— he  gave  importance  to  all  sorts  of 
more  or  less  trifling  pursuits — he  became  an 
amateur  connoisseur  in  etchings,  old  china 
and  bric-a-brac — he  grew  more  and  more  in- 
terested in  the  decoration  of  his  apartments, 
more  and  more  fastidious  about  what  he  had 
to  eat,  and  more  and  more  concerned  over 
the  details  of  his  attire. 

Thus  the  days  passed  into  months,  and 
the  months  into  years,  and  Tom  Norrie  was 
not  an  unhappy  man,  because  no  one  who 
is  busy  all  the  time  can  be  unhappy.  Some 
leisure  is  necessary  if  one  is  to  enjoy  one's 
melancholy,  and  Tom  left  himself  never  a 
moment's  leisure  in  his  days,  while  each  one 
"  brought  its  petty  dust  his  soon-choked  soul 
to  fill,"  and  at  times  he  almost  forgot  that 
he  had  anything  he  wanted  to  forget. 

Yet  what  a  trivial  unmeaning  life  it  was, 
if  he  ever  did  allow  himself  to  stop  for  a 
moment  and  think  !  And  it  was  impossible 
not  to  drop  the  curb  sometimes,  and  give 
his  thoughts  free  rein.  Then  all  the  nausea 


28          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

of  that  first  year  came  back  on  him  in  full 
force,  and  he  asked  himself  again  if  this 
was  life.  Should  he  grow  old  and  gray  in 
this  dull  routine,  this  merely  hand-to-mouth 
existence,  with  no  real  purpose  except  to 
make  money  enough  to  pay  the  bills  con- 
tracted in  the  process  of  making  the  money  ? 
It  was  like  the  man  who  couldn't  get  along 
without  his  horse,  because  he  had  to  drive 
five  miles  every  fortnight  to  get  oats  to  feed 
him  on.  His  own  life  seemed  to  him  just  as 
illogical,  just  as  ridiculous  as  that. 

There  was  some  consolation  in  the  facts 
that  he  was  very  successful  in  the  work  he 
hated  so,  and  that  he  had  all  the  money  he 
wanted,  and  more.  He  had  stuck  so  doggedly 
at  his  tasks  that  he  had  mastered  the  detail 
of  the  business  with  a  swiftness  that  as- 
tonished his  seniors.  At  twenty-five,  though 
he  had  never  received  from  either  his  father 
or  Mr.  Trumbull  a  word  of  encouragement 
or  praise,  he  suddenly  found  himself  a  part- 
ner, with  a  great  income  of  his  own.  He 
hated  the  money,  yet  he  liked  it,  and  he 
spent  it  lavishly  to  help  him  forget  that  it 
was  after  all  only  a  bribe,  the  purchase- 
money  of  his  soul.  He  wondered  vaguely 
now  and  then  that  he  made  no  move,  that  he 


THE  COST  OF  MONEY  29 

stayed  on  there  so  tamely,  and  took  the  bribe 
each  year ;  but  the  question  was  answered 
in  the  occupation  of  the  next  moment,  and 
then  there  was  something  else  to  do  after  that, 
and  so  his  life  went  on,  one  day  at  a  time, 
giving  him  little  chance  to  think  of  such 
troublesome  things  as  the  past  and  the  future. 

And  then,  finally,  he  met  Janet  Trumbull, 
and  everything  took  on  a  new  color  from 
its  association  with  her.  Certainly  he  could 
never  have  asked  her  to  marry  him  if  he 
had  not  had  plenty  of  money,  and  the  money 
came  from  the  despised  business.  He  began 
to  look  back  on  those  years  of  unhappiness 
as  his  period  of  service  for  his  Rachel — bitter 
service,  but  what  an  adorable  and  fascinat- 
ing Rachel !  He  must  settle  down  like 
other  men,  and  settling  down  cost  money, 
and  money  meant  work,  but  no  work  was 
too  much  for  such  a  prize. 

Miss  Janet,  however,  proved  a  very  mod- 
ern Rachel,  with  little  inclination  to  "settle 
down,"  and  he  began  vaguely  to  fear  that 
his  years  of  service  were  only  begun  instead 
of  ended.  And  now,  at  last,  it  was  all  over 
— she  had  jilted  him,  and  he  had  nothing  to 
console  him  but  the  business.  He  rejected 
this  consolation  immediately,  vindictively, 


30          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

finally,  and  cast  from  his  feet  with  scorn  the 
hated  dust  of  the  office  of  Norrie,  Trumbull 
&  Co.  He  was  a  free  man  for  the  first  time 
in  eight  years — but  a  free  man  now  forever. 
He  tried  to  feel  bitter  towards  Janet  for 
the  pain  and  humiliation  she  had  caused 
him.  Yet  but  for  her  he  would  still  have 
been  a  slave,  a  prisoner  in  chains,  and  how 
could  he  feel  anything  but  gratitude  towards 
the  one  who  had  brought  about  his  freedom  ? 
Freedom  meant,  besides,  a  chance  to  prove 
himself  not  a  coward.  Perhaps  he  was  a 
coward,  through  and  through — he  felt  un- 
easily uncertain  of  himself.  But  at  least  he 
would  give  himself  a  chance,  and  if  there 
were  left  any  of  the  old  courage  or  lightness 
of  heart,  he  would  exploit  it  for  all  it  was 
worth.  Janet  should  see,  he  said  impulsively 
to  himself,  with  a  resolute  brow — and  then 
he  laughed  at  his  folly,  for  what  difference  did 
he  make  to  Janet  now,  or  she  to  him  ?  He 
no  longer  cared  for  her — and  no  woman  was 
worth  a  man's  freedom,  anyway.  He  real- 
ly only  cared  to  prove  himself  not  a  coward 
for  his  own  satisfaction.  Janet  was  a  creature 
of  the  past — he  should  probably  never  see  her 
again — and  she  would  be  sure  to  marry  some 
rich  old  molly-coddle,  afraid  of  his  shadow. 


CHAPTER  III 

LESSONS    IN    LOVE-MAKING 

Tom  had  seen  Janet  Trumbull  many  times 
when  she  was  a  schoolgirl  in  short  dresses. 
He  considered  her  a  pretty  little  hoyden 
then,  and  forgot  all  about  her.  She,  mean- 
while, continued  her  education,  went  to  col- 
lege, and  grew  up  with  great  rapidity. 

The  Norries  and  the  Trumbulls,  in  spite 
of  the  business  connection,  were  not  inti- 
mate with  each  other  socially.  The  Norries 
lived  north  of  a  certain  street — the  unfash- 
ionable side — and  the  Trumbulls  south  of  it ; 
the  Norries  were  Friends,  the  Trumbulls 
Church  people ;  the  Norries  dined  at  mid- 
day, the  Trumbulls  at  night ;  and  these  dif- 
ferences were  far  too  vital  to  be  offset  by 
any  ordinary  respect  and  affection  incident 
to  business  association.  Mr.  Norrie,  how- 
ever, dined  once  a  year  at  the  Trumbulls', 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Trumbull  took  supper  as 
often  at  the  Norries';  and,  when  Tom  be- 


32          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

came  a  member  of  the  firm  Mr.  Trumbull 
deemed  it  appropriate  to  ask  the  young  man 
also  to  the  house  once  or  twice  in  the  season. 
Tom  always  accepted  in  duty  bound,  know- 
ing that  there  would  be  a  good  dinner,  good 
wine,  and  a  few  good  jokes  from  the  Bull, 
but  expecting  otherwise  a  rather  oppressive 
entertainment. 

But  at  one  of  these  periodical  feasts  Miss 
Janet  made  her  appearance,  and  Tom  did 
not  find  the  entertainment  oppressive  that 
evening.  He  called  very  soon  afterwards, 
and  very  soon  again  after  that,  and  shortly 
established  himself  on  a  familiar  footing  in 
the  family,  at  which  the  young  lady's  gruff 
papa  sniffed  humorously,  but  without  dis- 
pleasure. 

Miss  Janet  was  a  personable  young  wom- 
an, tall,  slender  and  dark,  whom  the  higher 
education  had  taught  at  least  to  hold  her 
head  very  high.  She  had  a  quick  sense  of 
humor  and  a  nice  turn  for  sarcasm,  and 
proved  a  very  difficult  young  person  to  pay 
court  to,  on  account  of  a  pronounced  ten- 
dency to  laugh  at  all  suggestions  of  senti- 
ment. She  was  strictly  a  modern  girl,  as 
became  her  college  training,  and  had  very 
modern  notions  of  men  and  marriage;  she 


LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING  33 

was  by  no  means  sure  that  she  cared  to  have 
much  to  do  with  them.  But  training  can- 
not do  away  with  nature,  and  Janet's  nature 
was  that  perennially  fascinating  and  always 
womanly  one  that  can' t  help  liking  men  and 
liking  to  be  liked  by  them.  She  was  the 
kind  of  girl  who  is  so  attractive  that  she  is 
accused,  early  and  often,  of  being  a  flirt — 
and  perhaps  Janet  did  flirt  a  little  now  and 
then,  though  it  was  entirely  against  her 
principles  to  do  so.  At  all  events  she  led 
her  father's  partner,  Mr.  Thomas  Norrie, 
Jr.,  a  very  lively  dance  through  the  first 
winter  of  their  acquaintance,  and  made  that 
ardent  young  man  despair  of  ever  bring- 
ing so  top-lofty  a  head  under  the  yoke  of 
matrimony.  But  he  wooed  in  earnest  and 
he  wooed  well.  He  realized  the  impor- 
tance of  the  method  in  that  time-honored 
pursuit  and  tried  to  be  bold,  always  bold, 
but  not  overbold;  to  adjust  with  tactful 
nicety  the  degree  of  his  presumption,  and 
temper  it  well  with  the  most  attentive  ser- 
vice. 

It  is  one  of  the  lovable  weaknesses  of  a 

nature  such  as  Miss  Janet's  that  it  is  sure  to 

carry  its  liking  to   be  liked  a  thought  too 

far  some  day — to  care  too  much  to  be  ad- 

3 


34         YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

mired  by  one  man  in  especial,  and  to  end  by 
finding  itself  in  love  with  him,  by  dint  of 
thinking  so  much  about  him.  Tom  Norrie 
was  six  years  her  senior,  and  in  her  eyes  he 
was  a  fastidious  man  of  the  world,  whose 
admiration  would  be,  in  a  way,  a  stamp  of 
perfection.  She  set  about  winning  it  with 
all  her  maidenly  art,  aided  by  all  the  lore 
and  the  accomplishments  of  a  college-bred 
girl.  And  however  obvious  the  attainment 
of  the  end  was  to  all  about  her,  she  was 
never  herself  quite  certain  that  Tom  Norrie 
didn't  disapprove  of  her  until  he  suddenly 
proposed  marriage  to  her  in  the  back  garden 
one  agreeable  spring  evening  in  the  light  of 
the  silver  moon. 

They  had  had  their  coffee  there  after  din- 
ner, and  now  her  mother  was  gone  in,  and 
she  was  lying  back  in  the  steamer-chair,  her 
hand  dropped  on  the  rug  at  her  side,  look- 
ing up  at  the  moon  through  the  twisted  and 
half-clad  branches  of  a  great  buttonwood. 
Mr.  Norrie  had  drawn  his  stool  close  to  her 
side  after  her  mother's  departure,  and  now, 
as  he  declared  himself,  in  a  low  and  soft 
voice,  with  broken  statements  of  his  affec- 
tion very  different  from  the  eloquent  periods 
in  which  he  had  always  previously  said  it 


LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING  35 

over  to  himself,  he  took  possession  of  her 
drooping  hand.  The  young  lady  lay  quite 
still,  looking  at  him,  saying  nothing,  and 
making  no  effort  to  recover  that  piece  of  her 
property.  Tom  took  heart  from  this  ap- 
parent concession — indeed,  he  felt  very  sure 
that  she  liked  him  or  he  should  not  have 
committed  himself  so  far — and  bent  forward 
with  a  swift  motion  as  if  to  draw  her  to  him. 

"  Janet,  do  you  love  me  ?  "  he  murmured. 

"No,"  said  Janet,  sitting  up  straight, 
avoiding  the  threatened  embrace,  and  pos- 
sessing herself  of  her  own  hand.  "  That  is — 
I  hope  not,"  she  added  in  a  moment,  as  if 
with  a  conscientious  desire  not  to  tell  an  un- 
truth. 

Tom,  who  had  dropped  from  heaven  the 
instant  before,  reascended  half-way  upon  this, 
and  then  waited  in  a  state  of  suspense,  or 
perhaps  better,  suspension,  for  further  devel- 
opments. "Ah,  but  if  you're  not  sure!  " 
he  murmured.  "  Then  I  sha'n't  give  you  up 
— I  shall  make  you  care  for  me." 

"I  forbid  you  to  do  any  such  thing," 
said  Janet,  quickly.  "  I  don't  want  to  care 
for  you — I  should  much  rather  not — and — 
and — I'm  very  glad  I'm  going  away  next 
week." 


36          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

This  struck  Tom  as  a  trifle  inconclusive. 
He  arose  and  took  a  stroll  about  the  grass, 
his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  his  head  bent 
forward  in  profound  thought  about  the  pe- 
culiar ways  of  women.  Should  he  press  his 
point,  or  give  her  her  own  way?  Which 
would  be  the  better,  the  surer  method  ?  He 
must  not  drive  her  into  rebellion,  and  neither 
must  she  feel  any  weakness  or  hesitation  in 
his  attitude  towards  her.  It  was  difficult  to 
control  himself  now.  He  had  so  nearly  had 
her  in  his  arms  a  moment  since,  and  she  was 
so  lovely,  so  wild,  so  defiantly  dear  !  He 
took  another  turn  or  two  about,  before  he 
went  back  and  sat  down  on  his  stool,  this 
time  drawing  it  off  to  a  more  discreet  dis- 
tance, with  half  the  length  of  the  rug  between 
it  and  the  steamer-chair. 

"Do  you  mind  if  I  smoke?"  he  asked 
in  a  polite  and  conversational  tone. 

Janet  gasped,  but  managed  to  utter  a  some- 
what inarticulate  consent  to  this  unexpected 
request. 

' '  I  have  to  go  soon, ' '  went  on  Tom,  ' '  but 
I'll  smoke  this  one  cigar  first,  and  perhaps 
you'll  tell  me  a  little  about  your  plans.  I 
had  no  idea  you  were  to  begin  your  summer 
outing  so  early. ' ' 


LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING  37 

The  young  lady's  account  of  her  plans  was 
very  confused,  and  Tom's  heart  beat  with  in- 
ward delight  at  her  agitation.  He  managed 
to  gather  that  an  unencumbered  aunt  in  New 
York,  who  was  very  fond  of  her  niece  and 
very  fond  of  travelling,  had  invited  her  to 
go  on  an  out-of-the-way  sort  of  trip  to  the 
Sandwich  Islands,  to  Samoa  and  Japan, 
that  the  invitation  had  but  just  come,  and 
that  the  answer  was  not  yet  sent,  but  that 
she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  go,  and  would 
probably  leave  in  eight  days  at  the  outside. 

"  It  sounds  like  the  most  charming  trip  im- 
aginable," said  Tom.  "I  would  certainly 
let  nothing  interfere  with  it  if  I  were  you. 
You  are  very  much  to  be  envied  to  have  such 
a  chance.  I  hope  it  will  be  perfect  in  every 
way,  and  that  you'll  have  lots  of  fun.  You 
are  going  so  soon  that  I  don't  believe  I  shall 
see  you  again,  so  I'll  wish  you  bon  voyage 
now.  Don't  come  in — it  is  too  lovely  out 
here.  I  can  find  your  mother  by  myself. ' ' 

Janet  was  not  able  to  utter  a  word  in  reply 
to  all  this  easy  volubility,  and  she  sat  in 
blank  silence  after  Tom  left  her.  What  had 
she  done  ?  Did  he  really  care  at  all  ?  How 
could  he  talk  and  act  so  if  he  did  ?  It  had 
taken  so  little  to  dampen  his  ardor  !  If  she 


38          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

had  had  any  idea — Her  mind  reverted  to 
the  thrill  that  went  through  her  when  he 
began  speaking  in  that  soft,  ardent  voice, 
and  took  her  hand.  How  close  and  warm 
his  clasp  was  !  She  had  been  lulled  into  a 
sort  of  dream,  unable  to  resist.  It  was  only 
when  he  moved  nearer  to  her  and  she  felt  the 
response  to  him  through  her  whole  being  that 
she  had  stirred  herself  to  resistance.  Well, 
if  it  needed  so  little  as  that  to  scare  him  off 
he  might  go — she  would  not  call  him  back. 
If  she  loved  a  girl  she  would  woo  more  man- 
fully, more  masterfully — she  would  not  give 
in  at  the  first  rebuff.  Not  that  she  wanted  a 
master,  or  would  even  acknowledge  one ;  but 
if  a  man  wasn't  strong  and  manly  he  wasn't 
worth  loving  and  marrying.  The  way  to 
make  marriage  the  equal  affair  it  should  be 
was  for  the  woman  to  be  just  as  strong  and 
just  as  manly — not  for  the  man  to  be  less 
so.  A  sudden  idea  struck  her.  Well,  why 
shouldn't  she  ?  It  would  be  a  capital  object- 
lesson  for  him. 

"Pis  not  so  much  the  gallant  who  woos 
As  the  gallant's  way  of  wooing  ! 

She  strolled  up  and  down  on  the  grass  as 
Tom  had  done,  and  in  much  the  same  cir- 


LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING  39 

cuit,  but  with  her  hands  posed  on  her  hips 
instead  of  in  pockets,  her  head  high  in  the 
air  instead  of  bent  forward,  while  she  punc- 
tuated her  thoughts  with  smiles  and  laughs, 
and  tossings  of  her  head — as  if  to  get  it  still 
higher — and  finally  a  sudden  clapping  of  her 
hands. 

"That's  exactly  it !  "  she  cried  aloud. 
"  I'll  give  him  four  days.  And  then  if  he 
hasn't  come  back  I'll  do  it — I  will !  It  will 
be  too  much  fun  !  " 

Thus  Tom,  growing  daily  more  dubious  of 
the  success  of  his  bold  methods,  and  sitting 
at  his  desk  in  the  office  with  a  longer  face 
and  longer,  until  there  was  no  further  pos- 
sibility of  elongation  without  fracture,  re- 
ceived on  the  fifth  day  of  waiting  a  strange 
and  enigmatical  note,  which  caused  his  heart 
to  thrill  with  eager  conjecture.  The  note 
was  addressed  to  him,  in  Miss  Trumbull's 
vigorous  handwriting,  but  it  began  "  Sweet 
Chloe,"  and  ended,  "Your  never-to-be- 
daunted  Strephon."  Though  Mr.  Norrie 
was  entirely  unacquainted  with  either  the 
gentleman  or  the  lady,  and  had  no  right  if 
he  were  to  read  their  private  correspondence, 
he  perused  this  brief  epistle  with  shameless 
eagerness. 


40          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  I  am  not  the  craven  I  seem,"  wrote 
Strephon.  "  A  laggard  in  love  is  no  lover, 
a  coward  in  love  is  no  man.  I  am  both  man 
and  lover,  and  to  prove  this  to  you,  with 
your  gracious  permission,  fair  lady,  I  will  be 
beneath  the  plane-tree  in  the  garden,  where 
last  I  saw  you,  at  nine  to-night.  I  could,  if 
needful — not  being  a  coward,  as  I  remarked 
before — scale  the  area  fence  from  the  back 
alley  and  risk  the  cruel  hurts  of  the  broken 
bottles  glued  on  the  top  thereof,  but  unless 
you  specially  require  this  proof  of  the  pro- 
fundity of  my  passion,  I  should  prefer  that 
you  would  leave  the  gate  unlocked.  But 
through  flood  or  fire,  broken  glass  or  barbed 
wire,  I  shall  pass  all  barriers  that  lie  betwixt 
us,  and  cast  myself  at  your  feet  at  the  hour 
and  place  stated  above,  provided,  of  course, 
your  feet  are  there  to  cast  myself  at.  You 
furnish  the  feet  and  I'll  do  the  rest,  in  other 
words.  Is  it  a  bargain  ? — if  you  will  par- 
don the  language  of  commerce  applied  to 
the  affairs  of  love.  And  don't  forget  that 
I'm  not  a  coward." 

Tom  Norrie,  in  evening  dress,  sneaking 
into  a  narrow  back  alley  by  moonlight  in 
the  deepest  shadow  he  could  find,  dodging 
ash-barrels  and  scaring  wandering  cats,  felt 


LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING  41 

curiously  unlike  the  nineteenth  century  and 
the  prosaic  workaday  world  in  which  he 
lived.  He  was  not  sure  at  first  from  the 
back  which  was  the  Trumbull  mansion,  and 
was  aware  that  in  the  eyes  of  the  police  his 
hesitating  actions  would  be  highly  suspi- 
cious. But  the  eyes  of  the  police,  as  is  usual 
on  occasions  of  suspicion,  were  not  there  to 
see,  and  the  mottled  trunk  of  the  great  but- 
tonwood  distinguished  it  clearly  in  the  moon- 
light from  the  tulip-trees  and  maples  in  the 
gardens  round-about,  and  then  in  another 
moment  his  hand  was  on  the  latch  of  the 
gate,  which  yielded  at  once  and  swung  open 
easily  before  him. 

Tom  almost  laughed  at  the  way  his  heart 
beat  as  he  stepped  within  the  charmed  pre- 
cinct. No  one  was  visible.  The  rug,  the 
bench,  the  steamer-chair,  the  wicker  table, 
the  stool,  were  all  there,  in  exactly  the  posi- 
tions they  had  occupied  when  he  bade  Janet 
farewell  so  coolly,  five  nights  earlier.  The 
dappled  shadows  cast  by  the  sparse  foliage 
of  the  buttonwood-tree  lay  over  all,  and  the 
silence,  even  there  in  the  heart  of  the  city, 
seemed  for  the  moment  absolute.  Tom  took 
the  precaution  to  lock  the  gate  behind  him, 
then  waited  for  Chloe — or  was  he  waiting 


42          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

for  Strephon  ?  He  really  was  not  quite  cer- 
tain, the  note  having  left  him  a  little  topsy- 
turvy as  to  his  own  identity.  He  leaned 
against  the  rough  trunk  of  Strephon 's  plane- 
tree,  which  was  certainly  more  poetical  and 
quite  as  correct  as  the  buttonwood,  and  re- 
garded the  house,  and  the.  line  of  tall  firs 
which  separated  it  from  the  garden,  and  cut 
off  all  view  of  its  lower  story.  A  church 
clock  not  far  away  rang  out  nine  on  the 
evening  air,  and  promptly  at  the  last  stroke, 
as  seemed  eminently  consistent  with  the 
solemn  mystery  of  the  occasion,  a  dark  fig- 
ure emerged  from  behind  these  firs  and 
paced  slowly  along  the  greensward  towards 
the  spot  where  Mr.  Norrie  stood.  This  mys- 
terious shape  paused  at  the  distance  of  some 
twenty  feet,  and  Tom  observed  that  it  was 
clad  in  a  student's  cap  and  gown. 

"  I  would  suggest,"  it  said,  in  deep  and 
solemn  tones,  "  that  Miss  Chloe  remove  her 
top  hat — top  hats  being  not  only  inappro- 
priate to  her  sex  and  condition,  but  a  trifle 
of  an  anachronism,  to  boot." 

Tom  instantly  did  as  he  was  bid. 

"Sit  down,"  then  commanded  the  shape. 
"  No — not  there — in  the  low  chair.  Now 
lean  back — so — and  look  up  at  the  moon — 


LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING  43 

that's  it.  And  in  case  you  should  feel 
chilly  in  your  evening  frock,  here's  a  wrap  to 
drape  about  your  shoulders.  Dear,  no  ! — 
don't  bundle  it  that  way — you  look  as  if 
you'd  an  awful  cold  in  your  head — arrange 
it  with  more  coquetry  and  grace.  Well,  but 
you  are  clumsy  !  ' ' 

"  I  thihk  if  Strephon  had.  any  gallantry 
he  might  arrange  it  for  me,  instead  of  call- 
ing me  names,"  grumbled  Chloe. 

"  I  didn't  know  you  would  permit  such 
familiar  attentions  from  your  gen'lemen- 
friends,"  replied  Strephon,  with  a  laugh, 
but  making  no  effort  to  relieve  Chloe's  em- 
barrassment with  the  fleecy  wrap.  He  drew 
up  the  stool  and  placed  it  exactly  where 
Tom  had  sat  when  he  made  his  momentous 
declaration.  "  Now  we're  ready  to  begin," 
he  declared,  sitting  down  and  regarding 
Chloe. 

Tom  looked  at  the  girl's  mischievous  face, 
half  darkened  by  the  shadow  of  her  mortar- 
board, and  wondered  what  she  was  up  to. 

"  She  shall  work  it  her  own  way,"  he  said 
to  himself.  "I'll  not  interfere  in  the  very 
least." 

Strephon  leaned  forward  toward  Chloe  on 
the  steamer  -  chair  and  composed  his  feat- 


44         YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

ures  to  as  impressive  and  serious  an  expres- 
sion as  possible.  "  Chloe,"  he  said,  in  a 
low  and  thrilling  voice,  "  we  have  known 
each  other  well  hardly  more  than  half  a 
year.  I  could  tell  you  the  very  moment  of 
our  meeting,  and  how  many  hours  we  have 
spent  in  each  other's  society  up  to  date,  but 
until  I  am  sure  of  the  nature  of  your  senti- 
ments towards  me  I  refrain  from  wearying 
you  with  arithmetical  details  that  might 
remind  you  of  my  methodical  commercial 
habits.  Nor  do  I  say  that  I  fell  in  love  with 
you  at  first  sight,  for  that  would  not  be  true, 
and  I  wish  to  be  as  exact  in  the  affairs  of 
love  as  in  those  of  trade,  exactitude  being  an 
admirable  business  habit.  Besides,  I  wish 
especially  to  make  the  point  that  I  have  not 
loved  you  long  in  secret,  and  put  off  telling 
you  until  I  felt  sure  you  reciprocated,  for 
fear  of  having  my  pride  hurt  by  refusal.  On 
the  contrary,  I  never  realized  the  state  of  my 
affections  until  I  spoke  to  you  so  abruptly 
the  other  evening,  and  then  the  only  reason 
why  I  stopped  talking  about  it  and  went  off 
at  your  first  '  No '  was  because  I  remem- 
bered a  very  important  engagement  I  had  at 
my  club,  which  I  had  forgotten  up  to  that 
identical  minute.  Duty  called  me  and  I  had 


LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING  45 

to  go,  but  I  left  my  heart  at  your  feet — 
where  it  has  remained  ever  since  for  all  I 
know,  and  I  hope  you  haven't  been  playing 
football  with  it. ' ' 

Strephon  here  looked  about  suspiciously 
for  the  missing  organ  referred  to,  but  not 
seeing  it,  resumed  his  remarks.  "  Of  course 
I  am  aware  that  my  behavior  strongly  re- 
sembled cowardice — it  certainly  looked  as  if 
I  feared  the  word  '  No  '  as  a  raw  recruit 
would  a  cannon-ball,  and  fled  at  the  first 
volley  in  order  to  be  out  of  sight  and  sound 
of  the  second.  But  that  was  not  so,  Chloe ; 
I  don't  like  to  hear  you  say  '  No,'  I  admit, 
but  I  am  ready  to  hear  it  forty  times  if  there 
is  the  slightest  chance  of  a  '  Yes '  at  the 
forty-first.  And  to  prove  this  I  am  here  to- 
night, to  stand  to  my  colors  and  be  shot  at 
my  post  if  need  be.  At  least  I  shall  die  a 
soldier,  on  the  field  of  battle,  fighting  for 
what  is  dearest  to  me,  and  what  better  fate 
can  there  be  than  that  ?  Besides,  I  am  well 
aware  " — here  Strephon's  voice  became  very 
significant  in  its  tone — "  that  women  care 
for  nothing  in  men  so  much  as  for  courage ; 
so,  even  if  I  were  quaking  and  shivering  in- 
side, which  I'm  not,  I  should  still  force  my- 
self to  take  this  bold  stand,  knowing  that  if 


46          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

there  were  any  chance  for  me  whatever  this 
would  be  the  way  to  win  it." 

Strephon  stopped  a  moment  impressively, 
looking  at  Chloe  with  all  his  eyes,  as  the  say- 
ing goes.  "  Chloe,"  he  declared,  "I  love 
you.  I  ask  you  again — do  you  love  me  ?  ' ' 

Chloe,  who  had  been  lying  in  her  chair 
quite  passively,  with  her  hands  in  her  lap, 
seemed  suddenly  at  this  point  to  remember 
something,  and  instead  of  answering  Stre- 
phon's  question,  quickly  lifted  one  arm,  and 
let  her  hand  drop  over  the  side  of  the  chair 
to  the  rug  below. 

Strephon  grinned  appreciatively  at  this 
manoeuvre,  but  hesitated  a  moment,  as  if  the 
duty  before  him  were  very  repugnant.  "I 
must  not  falter  now,"  he  murmured  to  him- 
self, but  quite  audibly ;  and  then,  in  a  some- 
what gingerly  manner,  picked  up  Chloe's 
hand  and  looked  at  it  as  if  he  did  not  know 
what  to  do  with  it.  "I  can  stand  cannon- 
balls,"  he  said,  in  a  stage  aside,  "but  hand 
to  hand  encounters  are  more  than  I  bar- 
gained for."  However,  he  took  the  hand 
in  his,  with  a  very  creditable  pressure,  and 
resumed  his  discourse.  "You  do  not  an- 
swer me,  Chloe.  Again  I  ask,  do  you  love 
me — can  you  love  me  ?  " 


LESSONS  IN   LOVE-MAKING  47 

Chloe  now  pulled  her  hand  away  (it  was 
an  heroic  effort  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Norrie) 
and  sat  upright.  "  No,  I  don't,"  she  said, 
somewhat  viciously.  "  Maybe  I  could  if  I 
would,  but  I  wouldn't  if  I  could." 

Strephon  smiled  at  the  familiar  vehe- 
mence of  these  remarks.  "All  right,"  he 
said,  cheerfully,  "but  I  don't  give  up  the 
ship,  all  the  same.  I'll  side  track  a  little 
bit,  for  variety,  and  then  we'll  come  back 
to  the  main  line  again."  Whereupon  he 
launched  into  a  vigorous  enumeration  of 
Chloe' s  charms,  and  of  the  reasons  why  he 
loved  her.  "Of  course,"  he  wound  up, 
"  I  am  aware  that  what  a  woman  likes  best 
in  a  man  next  to  courage  is  compliments, 
but  that  is  not  the  reason  I  am  telling  you 
all  these  things.  I  am  telling  them  to  you 
because  they  are  true — not  to  curry  favor. 
They  may  not  interest  you  in  the  least,  but 
they -are  facts  all  the  same.  Now,  Chloe, 
I  ask  you  once  more — do  you  love  me  ?  ' ' 

Chloe  had  placed  her  hand  at  this  juncture 
very  obviously  on  her  knee,  within  a  foot  of 
Strephon' s,  but  that  young  man  apparently 
felt  no  temptation  to  touch  it.  Chloe  sniffed 
contemptuously,  and  replied  again,  "No,  I 
don't — that  is — I  hope  not.  When  I  do 


48         YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

fall  in  love  I  hope  it  may  be  with  a  man — 
who  will  make  use  of  his  opportunities. ' ' 

Strephon  looked  a  little  dubious  at  this. 
"Thrice  refused,"  he  said,  after  a  moment. 
"Well,  I  think  that  will  do  for  to-night's 
cannonading.  But  I  give  you  fair  warning, 
Chloe,  that  I  intend  to  fight  it  out  on  this 
line  if  it  takes  all  summer.  I  shall  adopt  all 
known  methods  of  warfare,  and  shall  never 
give  up  the  siege — unless — unless  the  city 
surrenders  to  another  commander.  Then, 
and  then  only,  shall  I  fold  my  tents  and 
move  away.  But  for  the  present — farewell. " 

Strephon  started  to  rise,  but  Chloe  threw 
herself  forward  on  her  knees  at  his  side,  and 
forcibly  prevented  his  departure — yet  with 
a  very  delicate  force,  as  befitted  her  sex. 

"  No — no,  Janet,  not  so  fast,"  said  Tom. 
"You  have  given  me  a  lesson — now  I  must 
return  the  favor.  Do  you  really  think  any 
Chloe  would  care  for  so  cold  and  unimpas- 
sioned  a  Strephon,  who  held  her  hand  as  if 
it  were  a  piece  of  wood,  and  dropped  it  at 
the  first  excuse?  No,  my  dear  girl — you've 
a  great  deal  yet  to  learn  about  love-making, 
and  I  should  like  nothing  so  much  as  to  be 
your  teacher.  I'd  not  charge  you  a  cent  for 
tuition,  either — I'd  do  it  for  love." 


LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING  49 

"  It's  a  branch  I'm  not  at  all  anxious  to 
take  up — yet,"  said  Janet.  "  And,  really, 
Mr.  Norrie,  I  can't  see  what  right  you  have 
to  hold  my  hands.  You  don't  do  it  in  the 
least  as  if  they  were  pieces  of  wood  !  ' ' 

"It's  an  object-lesson,"  declared  Tom, 
boldly.  "  I'm  showing  you  how  it  ought  to 
be  done.  You  evidently  had  not  the  least  idea 
— and — and — well,  knowledge  is  power." 
He  drew  her  hands  against  his  heart  with  a 
sudden  impassioned  gesture.  "And  you 
call  me  a  coward,"  he  murmured,  "and 
have  no  idea  of  the  courage  of  a  man  who 
puts  himself  constantly  in  the  way  of  the 
strongest  temptation,  and  yet  resists  it.  The 
brave  man  fights  his  battles  within  himself, 
and  the  undiscerning,  hearing  no  blare  of 
trumpets  nor  clash  of  warfare,  see  only  what 
they  call  weakness — cowardice  !  My  heart 
is  burning  with  love  of  you — I  would  give  all 
I  possess  to  take  you  in  my  arms — press  you 
to  my  heart — yet  I  sit  here  calmly ' ' 

"  Kneel,"  prompted  Janet,  mischievously. 

"  Kneel  here  calmly,  and  discourse  to  you 
jokingly  of  this  thing  and  that,  as  if  you 
were  no  more  to  me  than  your  plane-tree 
yonder- — as  if  we  were  both  blocks  of  wood, 
instead  of  throbbing  flesh  and  blood." 
4 


50          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"Don't  call  me  names,"  said  Janet,  "I 
don't  throb." 

Tom  looked  at  her  fixedly.  "  I'll  venture 
the  contrary,"  he  said,  in  the  low,  ardent 
tone  that  had  thrilled  her  so  the  other  night. 
"  You  do  care  for  me  in  spite  of  yourself — 
your  heart  is  responsive  to  me — it  does  throb 
with  strange  and  new  emotions,  now,  as  I 
tell  you  of  my  love — and  if  I  draw  it  to  mine 
and  hold  you  there — close — never  to  let  you 
leave  me  again —  you  will  not  repulse  me — 
you  cannot — love  is  stronger  than  you,  and 
you  must  yield  to  its  power." 

Some  moments  later  Janet  broke  the  si- 
lence by  observing,  in  a  lightly  conversational 
tone,  "I  think  I'll  change  my  mind  and 
take  up  Love  after  all.  I  learned  most  other 
things  at  college — so  I've  really  plenty  of 
time,  and  this  seems  an  excellent  opportunity. 
So  cheap,  too — I  don't  know  where  I  could 
have  found  such  an  excellent  professor  at  such 
advantageous  rates.  It  will  interfere  a  little 
with  my  summer  plans,  to  be  sure — but  I 
shall  be  improving  my  mind  all  the  time,  at 
least.  However,  I  must  consult  mamma  and 
papa  about  it,  and  see  if  they  approve ' ' 

"Oh,  not  yet,"  begged  Tom,  "it's  so 
pleasant  out  here  !  ' ' 


LESSONS  IN  LOVE-MAKING  51 

"Is  it?  "  asked  Janet,  with  an  incredu- 
lous little  laugh. 

"Besides,"  went  on  Mr.  Norrie,  in  the 
same  persuasive  accents,  "I  should  like  to 
suggest — of  course  if  you're  to  study  with  me 
I'm  anxious  to  have  my  pupil  as  proficient 
as  possible,  and  the  more  time  you  spend  on 
it  the  quicker  you  learn,  you  know — er — er 
— why  shouldn't  we  get  married  ?  " 

' '  Married  !  ' '  The  young  lady  was  stand- 
ing upright  and  indignant  six  feet  away,  and 
Tom  had  a  sensation  of  being  scattered  to 
the  four  winds  as  he  rose  in  confusion  from 
his  kneeling  posture. 

"  I  don't  know  why  that  should  surprise 
you  so,"  he  said,  ruefully.  "  The  very  first 
lesson  in  love,  before  you've  learned  to  con- 
jugate it  even,  is  that  it  must  end  in  mar- 
riage, that  marriage  is  its  logical  out- 
come  " 

"  Ah  !  But  to  commit  yourself  to  it  forever 
before  you've  learned  the  first  syllable,  be- 
fore you  know  whether  you  like  it  or  not  ? 
The  idea!  Besides," — flippantly — "even  if 
I  enjoyed  the  study  I  might  prefer  to  change 
my  professor  !  No,  Mr.  Norrie ;  it  is  one  of 
the  advantages  of  college  training  for  women 
that  it  teaches  them  not  to  be  precipitate  in 


52          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

their  choice  of  life — not  to  marry  too  young. 
If  you  care  to  go  on  with  this  instruction  I 
am  ready  also,  but  on  the  imperative  condi- 
tion that  marriage  is  not  again  mentioned  by 
you  for  a  year  !  " 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Tom,  fatuously,  "of 
course  I'll  accept  any  conditions,  but  I  shall 
confide  in  your  generosity,  and  trust  that 
you  won't  be  too  hard  on  me." 

Janet  laughed.  "  I  think  you've  a  good 
deal  to  learn  yourself,  Mr.  Professor,"  she 
remarked.  "  However,  I'll  undertake  your 
tuition  while  you  are  busy  with  mine ;  and 
so,  even  if  you  are  sadder,  you  will  at  least 
be  wiser  !  ", 


CHAPTER  IV 

A   QUESTION   OF   COURAGE 

Almost  a  year  of  this  mutual  tuition  had 
passed,  and  Tom,  as  Janet  had  predicted, 
was  indeed  sadder  as  well  as  wiser.  The 
first  six  months  had  been  woven  nearly  all  of 
joy,  for  even  when  Janet  was  away  in  the 
summer  there  were  her  delightful  letters 
during  the  week,  and  the  still  more  delight- 
ful Sundays,  passed  together  in  forest  walks 
in  the  mountains  or  by  the  sands  of  the 
sounding  sea.  She  proved  a  coy  and  way- 
ward lover,  difficult  to  tame  and  shy  of 
caresses,  but  Tom  found  great  charm  in  this 
wildness,  and  tried  hard  not  to  disturb  her 
with  his  own  more  impassioned  notions  of 
love-making. 

But  as  the  autumn  wore  on  into  the  winter, 
and  she  still  would  hear  no  word  of  marriage, 
and  seemed  to  grow  more  wilful  rather  than 
less  so,  the  young  man  became  impatient, 
and  sometimes  let  her  see  it ;  or,  again,  de- 


54          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

manded  tenderness  of  her  in  her  least 
tender  moods,  and  was  hurt  and  unhappy 
when  she  laughed  in  his  face.  At  times  he 
felt  as  if  he  really  knew  her  less  than  be- 
fore he  first  spoke  to  her  of  his  love.  There 
was  a  coldness,  almost  resentment,  in  the 
way  she  looked  at  him,  as  if  she  could  not 
forgive  him  for  having  forced  his  way  into 
her  private  life.  They  seemed  terribly  re- 
mote and  unknown  to  each  other  then,  two 
wholly  separate  beings,  whose  efforts  to 
enter  into  each  other's  hearts  had  only 
shown  them,  with  a  bitter  reality,  that  such 
union  was  impossible — that  men  and  women, 
after  all,  must  live  in  the  world  as  they  enter 
it,  and  leave  it,  alone. 

Janet  had  her  softened  moments,  when  she 
too  regretted  this  state  of  things,  but  their 
attempts  to  talk  it  out  and  start  fresh  in 
happier  relations  only  ended  in  disagree- 
ments, and  an  intensified  misunderstanding. 
Then  Janet  would  be  perverse,  mischievous 
and  flippant,  and  Tom  would  get  out  of  pa- 
tience with  her,  and  be  exacting,  or,  still 
more  foolishly,  denunciatory.  Whereupon 
Miss  Janet  would  openly  deride  him,  with 
wicked  sauciness,  becoming  even  spiteful  as 
he  persisted  in  his  gloomy  disapproval.  Or 


A  QUESTION  OF  COURAGE  55 

when  he  varied  the  program  by  being  hurt 
and  grieved,  she  would  seem  driven  to  com- 
plete exasperation  by  his  unhappy  expression, 
and  then  would  treat  him  with  contemptuous 
cruelty.  These  fits  were  always  followed  by 
penitence,  and  a  great  kindness  towards  the 
victim,  but  as  they  increased  in  number 
and  severity  and  the  spasms  of  kindness 
grew  briefer  in  proportion,  Tom  at  last  lost 
heart  altogether,  and  went  about  in  an  ut- 
terly dejected  way  that  made  him  anything 
but  a  pleasant  companion  to  Janet  or  any 
one  else. 

And  at  last,  only  yesterday  evening,  they 
had  had  their  final  explanation,  and  now  all 
was  over  between  them  forever.  "  Forever  " 
— it  is  such  a  delightfully  high-sounding 
word — even  the  most  unhappy  of  discarded 
lovers  derives  a  certain  satisfaction  from 
rolling  it  off  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  and  gloats 
a  little  over  the  permanence  of  misery  that 
it  implies. 

"  Come,  Tom,  do  be  cheerful,  and  try  to 
smile  at  least  once  in  ten  minutes,"  Miss 
Janet  had  said  when  her  lover  and  his  long 
face  had  graced  the  Trumbull  drawing- 
room  with  a  fixed  melancholy  for  half  an 
hour. 


5  6         YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  I  have  nothing  to  smile  about." 

"Very  well,  then,  go  away,  and  don't 
come  back  until  you  have  something  to 
smile  about." 

"  I  think  perhaps  that  would  be  best  my- 
self." 

"I  am  sure  of  it." 

"  Are  you  in  earnest,  Janet?  " 

"Are  not  you?" 

"  Yes.  If  my  sadness  exasperates  you  I'd 
better  go  away,  since  only  your  love  can 
make  me  smile,  and  that  you  do  not  give 
me." 

"  Humph,"  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders, 
"  I  certainly  can't  lavish  affection  upon  you 
as  long  as  you  are  so  frightfully  solemn,  so 
I'm  afraid  it's  a  deadlock." 

"Janet,  we  must  be  frank  with  each 
other;  I  demand  frankness." 

"Tom,"  mimicking,  "we  have  been 
frank  with  each  other,  and  it  always  made 
us  'mad.'  ' 

"Don't  mock,  Janet.  I  can't  stand  this 
sort  of  thing  any  longer.  It's  ruining  my 
health." 

The  young  lady  regarded  him  scornfully. 
"You  do  look  ill,"  she  said,  in  a  jeering 
tone,  "  positively  emaciated.  I  don't  believe 


A  QUESTION  OF  COURAGE  57 

you  weigh  more  than  ten  pounds  above  what 
you  did  a  year  ago." 

"  A  man  needn't  lose  flesh  to  be  ill,"  said 
Tom,  gloomily. 

"  Come,  Tom ;  don't  be  a  baby.  That's 
my  great  quarrel  with  you " 

' '  What  do  you  mean  ?  ' ' 

"  You  pity  yourself  too  much.  Your  own 
sympathy  with  your  woes  is  so  excessive  that 
it  makes  other  people  hard  on  you,  just  by 
reaction." 

"I've  noticed  your  hardness " 

"Of  course;  I  can't  help  it.  I  get  so 
provoked  with  you  for  taking  yourself  so 
seriously,  and  regarding  yourself  as  such  an 
injured  being.  It — well,  really,  it  doesn't 
seem  to  me  manly." 

"  Does  your  conduct  seem  to  you  woman- 
ly?" 

"  It  doesn't  seem  to  me  anything ;  I  don't 
think  about  it.  If  I  did  I  think  yours  would 
seem  to  me  a  sufficient  excuse  for  all  that 
was  bad  in  it." 

"  So  that  I  am  all  to  blame  ?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  use  that  expression.  I  don't 
suppose  you  can  help  it." 

"Help  what?" 

"Being  a — a " 


$8          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"Well?" 

"Oh,  a  baby — a  coward — anything  you 
choose  to  call  it." 

A  long  pause  followed,  during  which  Janet 
twitched  a  flower  to  pieces,  and  Tom  sat  in 
horrified  silence  regarding  her. 

"  Do  you  really  consider  me  a  coward, 
Janet  ?  "  he  asked  at  last. 

"  That's  what  I  said,  didn't  I?  " 

"  Why  did  you  never  tell  me  so  before  ?  ' ' 

"I  have  —  a  hundred  times  —  but  you 
couldn't  see  it." 

"You  never  used  the  word " 

"  I  implied  it  in  a  hundred  ways — I  sup- 
posed you  knew  what  I  meant." 

"  How  implied  it?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  remember  now — I've  tried 
so  many  different  methods  !  Why,  when 
you  proposed  to  me,  and  went  off  rt  the 
first '  No ' — all  my  mummery  about  Strephon 
and  Chloe  was  meant  to  show  that — that  no 
such  faint-heart  could  win  a  woman's  love." 

"  It  seems  to  me  my  method  worked  very 
well — with  one  woman,"  said  Tom,  coldly 
— "even  if  you  did  think  me  a  faint-heart. 
It  took  but  five  days  to  bring  you  round." 

"  Method — five  days  !  "  cried  Janet,  with 
flashing  eyes.  "Do  you  mean  to  say  you 


A  QUESTION  OF  COURAGE  59 

planned  that?- — that  you  expected  me  to 
'  come  round '  as  you  call  it  ?  That  was 
more  cowardly  even  than  I  thought !  ' ' 

"  Don't  be  absurd,  Janet.  How  can  one 
say  what  one  plans  or  doesn't  plan  at  such  a 
time  of  emotion  ?  And  besides,  in  love  and 


"  I  think  we've  tried  love  long  enough," 
said  Janet,  icily.  "  Suppose  we  try  war 
now." 

"  It  seems  to  me  we've  tried  nothing  else 
for  the  last  few  months.  Calling  it  love 
didn't  alter  its  real  nature." 

' '  Suppose,  then,  we  try — nothing — for  a 
change. ' ' 

"  Janet,  say  plainly  what  you  mean.  Do 
you  wish  to  break  our  engagement  ?  ' '  Tom 
was  very  pale  as  he  asked  this  question,  and 
Janet  shrank  a  little  from  the  fixed  severity 
of  his  expression,  and  seemed  to  find  it  im- 
possible to  make  the  answer  she  wished  to 
make.  "Answer  me,  Janet,"  demanded 
the  young  man.  "  This  state  of  uncertainty 
has  lasted  long  enough.  I  must  know  ex- 
actly what  you  wish." 

"  I  wish  to  be  free,"  she  answered  him  in 
a  low  tone.  Then,  having  at  last  said  it, 
she  was  able  to  go  on  without  restraint.  "  I 


60          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

can't  stand  being  tied  to  you — it  makes  me 
almost  hate  you.  I  don't  know  why,  for  I 
know  I  loved  you — once.  Perhaps  I  love 
you  still,  but  I  never  can  find  out  so  long  as 
I  am  bound  to  you — so  long  as  I  must  marry 
you  whether  I  will  or  not.  I  can't  bear  the 
thought  of  marriage.  I  don't  feel  towards 
you  as  a  woman  should  towards  the  man  she 
is  going  to  marry.  I  am  impatient  with  you 
— critical  of  you — unjust  to  you,  I  am 
afraid." 

"  It  is  pleasant  of  you  to  admit  the  possi- 
bility of  that,"  said  Tom,  bitterly. 

"  Why  do  you  take  that  tone  ?  Do  you 
suppose  I  want  to  treat  you  unkindly  and 
make  you  miserable?  Do  you  think  I  en- 
joy it  and  am  very  happy  myself?  Oh, 
Tom,  you  complain  of  my  hardness,  my  lack 
of  sympathy  for  you,  and  yet  you  yourself 
have  never  once  taken  the  trouble  to  put 
yourself  in  my  place  and  imagine  how  I  must 
feel.  It  exasperates  me  —  your  concern 
about  your  own  feelings,  with  never  a  thought 
of  mine.  You  pity  yourself  so  much — it  is 
babyish.  I  want  to  think  of  you  as  manly 
and  strong,  but  I  can't.  You  seem  to  show 
your  worst  and  weakest  side  to  me  ;  I  can't 
lean  on  you,  I  can't  respect  you.  When- 


A  QUESTION  OF  COURAGE  61 

ever  I  want  your  help  you  fail  me.  You 
pretend  to  love  me  so  much,  but  all  you  seem 
to  want  of  my  love  is  what  I  can  give  you — 
sympathy  for  you,  admiration  for  you,  inter- 
est in  your  affairs,  your  thoughts,  your  life — 
and  you  forget  entirely  that  I,  too,  am  a  hu- 
man being,  even  if  I'm  not  a  man ;  that  I 
have  a  life  and  thoughts  and  affairs,  that  I 
want  sympathy  and  interest  and — and  ad- 
miration  " 

Tom  was  looking  at  her  with  a  strange 
calmness — the  calmness  of  suppressed  feeling. 
"Do  you  really  think  I  don't  love  you, 
Janet — that  my  love  is  a  mere  selfish  pre- 
tence ?  "  he  asked,  after  some  moments  had 
passed. 

"Oh,  you  think  you  love  me,  Tom,  of 
course,  but  it  doesn't  seem  to  me  real  love. 
Bah  ! — I  hate  the  very  name  of  love — it  cov- 
ers so  much  false  sentiment,  so  many  impos- 
sible ideals,  such  exacting  selfishness  !  It 
means  so  much  weariness  and  monotony  and 
boredom.  Just  think,  Tom,  of  this  year  that 
we  have  been  engaged — what  an  awful  waste 
of  time  !  I  don't  believe  you've  read  a  book, 
and  I  know  I've  not  read  many.  Every 
evening  that  we  haven't  been  out  together 
you've  spent  here  with  me,  and  what  have 


62          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

we  done  ?  Just  made  love — nothing  else  ; 
talked  personalities  and  sentiment  by  the 
hour,  until  I  die  of  weariness  to  think  of  it. 
So  many  times  we  should  both  of  us  rather 
have  read — or  done  anything,  in  fact,  to 
employ  our  minds  rationally.  But,  no,  we 
were  engaged.  The  thought  that  we  could 
possibly  tire  of  each  other's  conversation  was 
not  to  be  entertained  for  a  moment !  It  is 
the  convention  of  the  situation  that  you  must 
make  love ;  it  may  bore  you,  but  you  must 
do  it ;  it  is  the  proper  thing.  Ugh  !  How 
any  rational  woman  can  go  through  '  being 
engaged,'  and  endure  the  thought  of  mar- 
riage— the  perpetuation  of  it  forever,  I  can't 
see.  The  whole  situation  is  so  false — you 
have  to  pretend  all  the  time.  I — I  like  to 
be  honest — to  say  and  do  what  I  like,  ex- 
press my  feelings,  even  if  they  aren't  the 
thing  that's  expected  of  me. ' ' 

"  That's  your  idea,  I  suppose,  of  purely  un- 
selfish love?"  suggested  Tom,  sardonically. 

"It's  my  idea  of  an  equal  and  beautiful 
relation,  in  which  perfect  honesty  is  possible. 
Why  shouldn't  I  have  the  right  to  say  so  if 
love-making  bores  me  ? — if  I'm  tired  of  bill- 
ing and  cooing  and  would  rather  read  a  book  ? 
If  I  don' t  feel  in  an  affectionate  mood  and 


A  QUESTION  OF  COURAGE  63 

would  rather  not  be  kissed  ?  Oh,  Tom,  I 
want  no  more  of  what  you  call  love — this 
winter  has  been  a  nightmare  to  me  !  You've 
exacted  affection  of  me  when  it  nauseated 
me ;  talked  personalities  until  I  was  bored 
to  death,  growing  silent  and  unexpressive 
once  your  favorite  subjects  were  abandoned  ; 
regarding  love  as  a  thing  purely  of  the  senses, 
with  no  food  for  the  mind — and  my  mind 
has  been  so  unsatisfied  !  Then  if  I  gave  the 
slightest  expression  to  any  of  this  feeling,  you 
were  so  sensitive,  and  your  sensitiveness  was 
sufficient  excuse  in  your  mind  for  any  degree 
of  limpness  and  loppiness  and  general  pros- 
tration that  you  chose  to  indulge  in.  I  had 
to  be  comforting  you  and  coddling  you  all 
the  time,  and  binding  up  your  wounds,  and 
treating  you  like  a  baby,  and  saying  things 
I  didn't  mean,  just  to  get  you  cheerful  again. 
I've  always  been  honest,  and  I  like  to  be 
honest,  but  this  year  of  our  engagement  I've 
told  more  white  lies,  acted  more  untruths 
than  I  ever  dreamed  would  be  possible  for 
me,  and  all  just  to  gloss  over  the  injuries  done 
to  your  sensitive  disposition  !  Sensitiveness 
is  only  another  name  for  selfishness,  I  think 
— and  such  a  weak,  mushy  sort  of  selfishness  ! 
I  know  I'm  perfectly  hateful,  but  if  being 


64          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

engaged  to  you  makes  me  so  I'd  certainly 
better  stop  being  engaged.  And  I  know 
there's  another  side — your  side — and  I  can 
see  it  much  more  vividly  than  you  think, 
and  feel  far  more  miserable  than  I  could 
make  you  believe  to  cause  you  such  suffering 
as  this.  But  I  can't  help  it;  there's  no  use 
in  keeping  up  this  sort  of  a  farce,  and  pre- 
tending to  feel  what  I  don't  feel." 

"  I  can  tell  you  what  the  whole  trouble  is," 
said  Tom.  "You  have  never  loved  me — 
you  have  loved  an  ideal  manufactured  in 
your  own  brain,  and  because  I  prove,  natur- 
ally, very  unlike  this  paragon,  you  think  me 
one  delusion  and  all  love  another.  But 
there  is  one  thing  I  cannot  understand,  and 
that  is  why  my  inability  to  come  up  to  the 
standard  of  your  pattern  man  should  necessi- 
tate your  calling  me  a  coward. ' ' 

"  Can  you  prove  that  you  aren't?  " 
"  The  burden  of  proof  is  on  you." 
"Well,  I  suppose  really  it  is  more  a  sus- 
picion— a  fear  with  me — than  anything  else. 
I've  always  adored  strength  and  courage  in 
men  and  women  alike,  and  the  fear  that  you 
mightn'  t  have  them  was  torture  to  me.     The 
least  suspicion  of  weakness  in  you  made  me 
harsh  and  hard  towards  you,  and  the  least 


A  QUESTION  OF  COURAGE  65 

lack  of  resolution  and  bravery  made  me 
vicious.  But,  oh !  Tom — if  I  married  you 
and  there  came  a  test  and  you  failed  me,  if 
you  were  a  coward,  I  should  despise  you — I 
couldn't  help  it.  I'd  far  rather  you'd  be 
bad  and  brave  than  good  and  cowardly — 
that  is,  I  could  love  you  that  way,  and  I 
couldn't  the  other.  But  you  —  you're  so 
cautious,  so  careful,  you  hate  so  to  run  any 
risk — when  we  go  to  places  you  won't  do 
anything — you  hate  adventures  so — you  seem 
so  bound  up  in  your  old  business — so  fussy 
and  particular  about  details — like  an  old 
maid.  Oh,  it  seems  to  me  you  aren't  manly, 
and  you  can't  be  brave — and  it  makes  me  so 
impatient  with  you,  and  then  I  can't  bear 
you  to  come  near  me,  and  that  makes  you 
grieved,  and  then  we  are  both  miserable. 
No — no — I  can't  go  on — I  must  be  free." 

"You  are  free,"  said  Tom,  quietly.  "  I 
have  no  claim  on  your  heart,  and  hence  none 
on  your  hand.  And  it  is  better  that  I  should 
not  come  here  any  more ;  that  we  should 
simply  say  goodby,  and  let  that  end  it. ' ' 

"  I  am  going  away,  anyway,  soon,"  said 

Janet,  with   a   touch  of  sudden   feebleness 

after  all  her  vehemence ;  and  then,  as  Tom 

did  not  ask  where,  she  went  on  half  absently, 

5 


66         YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  The  trip  I  didn't  take  with  Aunt  Elliott 
last  spring  I'm  to  have  this  spring.  Only 
it's  a  different  trip,  of  course.  Just  our 
own  West,  all  the  new  States,  and  anything 
that  seems  to  be  interesting  when  we  get 
there,  without  any  fixed  plan  ahead."  She 
mentioned  in  the  same  absent  way  a  few  of 
the  places  they  thought  of  visiting,  and 
wound  up  with  the  statement  that  they  should 
start  in  about  a  month. 

"  A  good  trip  for  a  romantic  young  lady. 
You  may  see  a  brave  man  or  two, ' '  and  Tom 
smiled  pleasantly. 

"  Oh,  Tom,  I  hate  to  think  of  all  I've 
said." 

"  It  was  better  to  say  it  if  it  was  true." 

"  But  there's  so  much  else  that's  true.  I 
like  you  so  much.  We've  been  such  good 
friends.  Surely  you  will  come  here  ?  I 
shall  see  you  sometimes  ?  ' ' 

"  No.  We — well,  we  should  have  noth- 
ing to  talk  about  for  one  thing, ' '  said  Tom, 
with  a  little  laugh. 

"Oh,  Tom  ! — don't  !  But  tell  me — are 
you — have  I — you  don't  mind  very  much  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Tom,  cheerfully.  "  You 
haven't  broken  my  heart,  if  that's  what  you 
mean.  There  are  plenty  of  interests  left  in 


A  QUESTION  OF  COURAGE  67 

life.  I  hate  the  old  business  for  one  thing, 
and  can't  bear  to  spend  my  whole  life  in  it ; 
and  since  I  haven't  got  to  support  a  wife  I 
won't.  I  dare  say,  too,  I  shall  find  trav- 
elling more  entertaining  than  matrimony 
would  have  been ;  then  we  shall  agree  about 
one  thing  at  least." 

Janet  was  nonplussed  by  his  easy  way  of 
taking  it.  "  I'm  so  glad  you  feel  so  about 
it,"  she  said,  half-heartedly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  can  relieve  your  mind  of 
all  anxiety  on  my  behalf.  To  tell  the  truth, ' ' 
he  said,  "  I'm  not  sure  I  wasn't  a  little 
bored  with  being  engaged  myself;  but  be- 
ing a  man  I  hadn't  the  originality  to  dis- 
cover it.  Adam  let  Eve  find  out  things  for 
him,  and  men  ever  since  have  followed  his 
example.  Well,  I  must  be  going.  I  hope 
nothing  will  interfere  with  your  trip — you're 
very  much  to  be  envied  to  have  such  a 
chance.  I  hope  it  will  be  perfect  in  every 
way,  and  that  you'll  have  lots  of  fun.  I 
sha'n't  see  you  again,  so  I'll  wish  you  bon 
voyage  now." 

'•'Why,"  cried  Janet,  with  wide-open 
eyes,  "  you're  saying  exactly  what  you  said 
a  year  ago — almost  word  for  word." 

"Ami?     That's  funny." 


68          YOUR  MONEY  OR   YOUR  LIFE 

"  But  you  didn't  mean  it  then " 

"Well,  I  do  mean  it  now,"  declared 
Tom,  with  a  smile.  "  Make  my  respects  to 
your  father  and  mother,  please.  Goodby. ' ' 

Janet  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  drawing- 
room,  just  where  he  had  taken  leave  of  her, 
for  many  minutes.  "  Doesn't  he  care  at 
all  ?  "  she  asked  herself.  "  Or  is  it  that  he 
cares  so  much  and  is  too  proud  to  show  it  ? 
What  if  he  isn't  a  coward?  Somehow  I 
haven't  liked  him  so  well  for  months!  I 
wonder  if  I  can  have  made  a  mistake  after 
all?" 

Some  instinct  of  reticence  prompted  her 
not  to  tell  her  family  of  what  had  occurred, 
but  to  let  them  find  it  out  gradually,  by  ob- 
servation. 

"  If  Tom  Nome's  in  here  this  evening," 
growled  her  father,  the  next  night  at  dinner, 
"  I  want  to  see  him." 

"I  don't  expect  him  to-night,"  said 
Janet,  quietly. 

"  Humph  !  Thought  he  was  here  every 
night  wasting  his  time.  Where  is  he,  then  ? ' ' 

"  I  don't  know,  papa.  Why  are  you  so 
put  out  with  him  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  put  out  with  him.  Impudent 
young  jackanapes  !  ' '  growled  the  Bull — but 


A  QUESTION  OF  COURAGE  69 

before  he  knew  it,  Miss  Janet,  by  dint  of 
artful  contradictions,  sudden  agreements  and 
other  tactics,  patented  by  herself  for  the  pur- 
pose, had  the  whole  story  out  of  him. 

She  was  awestruck  at  Tom's  new-found 
independence,  and  thrilled,  yet  half  uneasy 
over  this  signal  instance  of  his  bravery,  for 
she  knew  well  what  it  meant  to  defy  her 
father's  wrath.  But  when  he  did  not  turn 
up  the  next  day  at  the  office,  nor  the  next, 
when  it  was  learned  that  he  had  drawn  a 
large  sum  of  money  from  his  bank,  and  he 
was  traced  as  far  as  Chicago,  but  utterly  lost 
from  that  point  on,  it  began  to  look  to 
Janet,  as  to  the  others,  a  very  serious  mat- 
ter. It  was  a  genuine  and  complete  disap- 
pearance, and  she  remembered  anxiously  now 
hearing  Tom  say  in  days  gone  by  that  he 
had  always  thought  he  should  like  to  disap- 
pear— to  have  the  freedom  of  being  prac- 
tically another  person,  and  to  have  a  new 
life  as  different  as  possible  from  any  he  had 
known  before. 

"  If  anything  happens  to  him  I  shall  be  to 
blame,"  she  said  to  herself,  miserably.  "  I 
drove  him  to  it.  There's  no  knowing  what 
risks  he  may  run — especially  if  he  isn't  a 
coward!" — and  she  spent  her  days  and 


70          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

many  sleepless  nights  in  vain  conjecture  as 
to  where  he  had  gone,  and  what  he  might 
be  doing ;  looking  forward  with  feverish 
eagerness  to  her  own  departure  for  the  West, 
in  the  forlorn  hope  that  she  might  some- 
where run  across  him.  And  as  the  time 
passed  and  there  came  no  word  of  him,  she 
began  to  think  that  she  would  have  to  give 
up  everything  else  to  search  for  him — she 
was  sure  that  she  could  find  him  sooner  or 
later,  and  this  suspense  about  him  was  un- 
bearable— it  would  kill  her. 


CHAPTER  V 

IN   PURSUIT   OF   ADVENTURE 

A  month  passed.  Tom  Norrie  spent  his 
first  weeks  of  freedom  in  travelling  from  the 
midwest  still  westward  by  such  stages,  rapid 
or  slow,  as  suited  his  mood  from  day  to  day. 
He  made  friends  on  the  trains  with  those 
men  whose  appearance  attracted  him  most, 
and  sometimes  even  accompanied  these  queer 
acquaintances  upon  their  further  journeys. 
All  the  conventional  social  laws  that  had  up 
to  this  time  regulated  his  intercourse  with 
other  human  beings  were  cast  one  side.  He 
was  hail-fellow  with  every  one,  and  did  not 
wait  to  be  introduced.  Cigars  and  drinks 
were  introduction  enough.  They  led  rapidly 
to  agreeable  games  of  poker,  or  still  more 
agreeable  conversations,  in  which  Mr.  Nor- 
rie's  own  engaging  frankness  about  his  past 
career  led  to  equally  pleasing  confidences  on 
the  part  of  his  friend  of  the  moment.  Tom 
invented  a  plausible  yarn  of  his  early  life  and 


72          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

adventures,  which  by  dint  of  frequent  re- 
peating began  to  seem  to  him  so  true  that 
he  told  it  with  most  convincing  verisimili- 
tude— suppressing  nothing  derogatory,  nor 
yet  magnifying  unduly  those  feats  of  arms 
or  craft  which  redounded  to  his  credit.  He 
modestly  let  himself  appear  as  a  ' '  tender- 
foot," but  by  accident  of  circumstance 
rather  than  by  temperament,  for  his  tale 
showed  him  no  milksop. 

In  his  thirst  for  real  adventure  he  picked 
out  wherever  he  went  the  most  devil-may- 
care  and  reckless  faces — those  which  gave 
signs  of  humor,  bravado,  and  audacity.  He 
sought  for  that  character  with  which  he  had 
invested  a  priori  his  Western  compatriot ; 
he  sought  to  come  in  closest  contact  with  it, 
and  then  to  emulate  it.  He  found  gener- 
ally, to  be  sure,  peaceful  citizens  dwelling 
behind  these  brazen  masks,  and  lives  com- 
monly tame  enough  beneath  the  heroic  blus- 
ter which  pleased  him. 

But  again,  there  was  brass  within  a  fair 
counterpart  to  that  without,  and  he  found 
himself,  to  his  delight,  shaking  hands  and 
drinking  with  gentlemen  who  if  they  had 
not  been  in  jail  belonged  there  by  rights, 
and  who  bragged  as  lightly  of  having  killed 


73 

their  man — or  possibly  several — as  Tom 
might  boast  of  breaking  an  unruly  horse. 
So  he  sat  with  them  in  the  gaudy  saloons, 
and  heard  their  adventures,  and  narrated  his 
own  imaginary  ones,  and  then  followed  them 
out  in  quest  of  those  which  should  be  real 
and  true.  But  his  search  was  unrewarded. 
He  allied  himself  with  these  desperate  char- 
acters, blinked  at  nothing,  talked  as  loud 
and  drank  as  deep  as  they,  went  to  their 
camps  or  habitations  with  them,  became  for 
the  time  one  of  their  gang,  friend  of  their 
friends  and  enemy  of  their  enemies — and 
yet,  nothing  happened. 

But  he  enjoyed  more  every  day  the  fresh 
and  racy  flavors  of  the  life.  Freedom  from 
his  old  bonds  was  sweet  enough,  but  free- 
dom of  this  sort  put  new  blood  into  his 
veins.  His  manners  changed  with  his  for- 
tune, and  now  the  staid  city  of  his  birth  a 
month  behind  him,  only  a  close  observer 
would  have  taken  him  for  anything  but  a 
Westerner  of  long  experience — which,  we 
may  remark  parenthetically,  does  not  neces- 
sarily mean  more  than  a  year.  Out  there 
time  moves  more  swiftly,  and  a  little  of  it 
goes  much  farther  than  in  the  slower  regions 
of  what  we  call  civilization.  Tom  enjoyed 


74          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

the  change  so  hugely  that  he  hardly  gave 
himself  the  chance  to  feel  disappointment 
at  the  lack  of  actual  events.  It  was  excit- 
ing enough  at  first  to  be  with  men  of  this 
sort  and  to  be  given  the  freedom,  as  it  were, 
of  their  past  careers  of  crime  and  escape. 
The  escapes  were  so  thrilling  that  he  had 
thrills  himself  only  to  hear  them. 

And  his  own  transformation  into  the  bold 
swashbuckler  of  his  imagination  pleased  him 
mightily.  He  took  to  it  all  so  quickly  and 
so  naturally,  that  there  was  no  effort  to  him 
in  the  role.  He  liked  to  swagger  and  talk 
big.  He  rather  enjoyed  the  unwonted  taste 
of  large  oaths  in  his  mouth.  He  gave  his 
humor  free  swing,  and  found  that  this  raised 
him  high  in  the  esteem  of  his  rough  com- 
panions. He  made  them  laugh,  and  then 
they  liked  him.  His  drollery  was  his  pass- 
port to  favor  and  grew  with  the  appreciation 
that  it  met.  He  had  never  earned  the 
reputation  of  being  much  of  a  wag,  though 
he  had  always  himself  been  amused  by  his 
own  way  of  putting  things.  He  enjoyed, 
perhaps,  as  much  as  anything,  this  sensation 
of  having  his  jokes  appreciated,  and  liked 
to  feel  that  he  was  a  good  American  by  in- 
heritance of  humor. 


IN   PURSUIT  OF  ADVENTURE  75 

As  the  time  drew  on  he  found  himself 
gravitating  back  towards  the  main  line  ol 
traffic,  from  which  he  had  strayed  far  afield, 
and  to  the  region  mentioned  by  Janet  as  her 
first  destination  in  the  West,  a  stage,  as  it 
were,  of  her  journey.  He  arrived  one  even- 
ing at  the  brand-new  town  of  Bud,  being 
brought  thither  on  a  branch  line,  which 
gave  him  an  hour  to  get  his  supper  at  the 
Empire  Hotel,  and  to  make  his  connection 
with  the  next  train  on  the  other  road.  But 
when  he  found  the  whole  little  town  agog 
over  a  train  robbery  on  the  last  train  up  on 
the  main  line,  he  resolved  to  stay  on  until  the 
next  day.  It  seemed  that  the  robbery  con- 
stituted one  of  a  brilliant  series  which  had 
dazzled  the  whole  locality  in  the  last  month 
by  their  swiftness,  effectiveness,  and  daring. 
There  was  something  in  the  way  every  one 
spoke  of  the  leader  of  the  gang  that  appealed 
powerfully  to  Tom's  imagination.  He  was 
a  young  fellow,  apparently  perfectly  fearless, 
so  nonchalant  in  the  pursuit  of  his  risky 
profession,  and  so  easy  and  humorous  in  the 
treatment  of  his  victims,  that  instead  of  be- 
ing feared  and  detested,  he  seemed  rapidly 
on  the  way  to  become  a  popular  idol.  The 
waiter  at  his  table  regaled  Tom  with  anec- 


76          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

dotes  of  him,  which,  though  they  were  on 
the  face  of  them,  to  even  the  most  credu- 
lous hearer,  of  a  legendary  and  impossible 
quality,  nevertheless  interested  Tom  more 
in  their  subject  with  every  word.  The  very 
fact  that  such  elaborate  and  circumstantial 
accounts  were  already  current  of  his  reck- 
lessness, his  bravado,  and  his  chivalry,  es- 
tablished in  Tom's  mind  the  conviction  that 
he  was  an  uncommon  character,  a  modern 
Robin  Hood  or  Cellini  or  D'Artagnan — or 
a  mixture,  perhaps,  of  the  three,  with  the 
typical  touch  of  American  humor  to  light- 
en and  modernize  it  all.  In  any  event,  he 
seemed  to  be  the  actual  embodiment  of  all 
that  Tom  was  seeking,  and  it  was  borne  in 
upon  our  hero's  mind  that  by  hook  or  by 
crook,  fair  means  or  dark  ones,  he  must 
make  this  man's  acquaintance. 

"By  George!"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  Why  shouldn't  I  join  his  gang?  There 
would  be  adventure  with  enough  risk  to 
make  any  man's  heart  jump — something 
worth  coming  two  or  three  thousand  miles 
for  !  '  It  is  an  honorable  kind  of  thievery,' 
besides,  and  even  if  I  am  caught,  it's  a  fel- 
low by  some  other  name  that's  hanged,  not 
one  of  the  junior  partners  in  the  respectable 


IN  PURSUIT  OF  ADVENTURE  77 

house  of  Norrie,  Trumbull  &  Co.  There's 
no  one  to  care  what  becomes  of  me,  if  I 
don't  bring  disgrace  on  that  honored  name 
— or  rather  a  cloud  on  its  credit.  Janet's 
thrown  me  over — and — well,  it  would  be  as 
good  a  way  as  any  to  prove  that  I  am  not  a 
coward.  If  only  it  wouldn't  involve  taking 
other  people's  property  !  That  was  very  ro- 
mantic and  proper  three  or  four  hundred 
years  ago — but  now,  in  1895,  somehow  it 
looks  tremendously  like  stealing." 

With  which  conflicting  reflections,  Mr. 
Norrie  strolled  to  the  bar-room,  having  ab- 
sent-mindedly given  his  waiter  a  fee  of  a 
size  to  cause  that  person's  mouth  to  fall  ajar 
and  his  eyes  to  goggle  with  awestruck  joy. 

"  'Fraid  to  risk  the  trip  to-night?"  in- 
quired the  hotel  clerk  and  bartender,  when 
Tom  announced  that  he  should  like  a  room 
after  all. 

"  Afraid — what  do  you  mean  ?  You  don't 
think  there's  any  chance  of  the  night  train 
being  held  up,  do  you?"  asked  Tom, 
quickly. 

"  Well,  no — I  don't  guess  there  is.  They 
don't  often  hit  twice  runnin'  like  that.  But 
I  thought  perhaps  you  might  feel  nervous 
about  night  travellin',  all  the  same." 


78          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"I'm  no  such  sissy  as  that,"  remarked 
Mr.  Norrie,  with  easy  nonchalance.  "  On 
the  contrary,  I  should  rather  like  to  meet 
the  gentlemen  and  observe  their  methods." 

"  Reckon  you'd  not  care  to  meet  Tom 
Nelson  more'n  once.  I've  not  heard  of  any- 
body that  was  anxious  to  renew  the  acquaint- 
ance. ' ' 

"You'te  mistaken  there,  Gus,"  said  an 
elderly  smoker  across  the  room.  "One  o' 
them  gals  up  from  Aurory  for  the  ball — the 
prettiest  one  o'  the  lot,  too — was  just  dead 
stuck  on  him.  Said  he  was  as  polite  a  gent 
as  she'd  ever  met,  and  if  'twarn't  for  losin' 
her  di'monds  she'd  like  to  be  held  up  over 
agin." 

"  She's  the  Sheriff's  girl  down  to  Aurory," 
said  another  and  younger  gentleman.  "  An' 
she  'bout  runs  the  town  herself.  You  can 
see  her  down  there  any  day  doin'  'bout  as 
she  d — n  pleases,  an'  lookin'  pretty's  a  peach, 
too.  She's  got  a  skin  like  milk." 

The  hotel  clerk  was  interested.  "You 
don't  mean  that  stunnin'  tall  girl  in  black 
velvet  and  a  corsij  bokay  ?  "  lie  inquired, 
eagerly. 

•"  That  very  same,"  rejoined  the  previous 
speaker.  ' '  Miss  Geraldine  Roray ;  com- 


IN   PURSUIT  OF  ADVENTURE  79 

monly  called  Jerroray — just  like  they  call  her 
dad  the  Terror  of  Aurory — his  name  bein' 
Terrence — and  Terroray  for  short.  She 
knows  how  to  dress  way  up,  and  the  Terror 
don't  think  nothin's  too  good  for  her.  He 
made  a  pile  o'  plunks  off  Aurora's  boom, 
and  now  she's  a  spendin'  of  "em." 

"Should  think  she  did  know  how  to 
dress!"  exclaimed  the  magnificent  Augus- 
tus. "They  ain't  a  girl  in  this  town  can 
match  the  togs  she  had  on  to-night.  See 
here,  Neddy  Bedloe,  will  you  introjuce  me 
to  her?  My  time's  up  in  twenty  minutes, 
and  I'm  goin'  down  to  the  hall  for  some  fun. ' ' 

"Suppose  I  want  all  my  own  introjuc- 
tions  myself?"  retorted  Neddy,  sarcasti- 
cally. "Suppose  I'm  goin'  to  have  some 
fun,  too  ?  " 

"  But  you  don't  dance." 

"Hey — don't  I?  You  wait  and  see! 
Bet  she  dances  with  me  twice  to  once  with 
you,"  said  Mr.  Bedloe.  "I  ain't  got  to 
wait  twenty  minutes  till  my  time's  up," — 
with  which  he  rose  and  went  off  grinning, 
partly  at  his  own  cleverness  and  partly  at 
the  discomfiture  of  the  elegant  Augustus,  a 
gentleman  who  roused  affection  in  no  one's 
bosom. 


8o          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"Bet  your  friend  loses  his  wager,"  said 
Tom,  in  an  ingratiating  manner,  perceiving 
his  opportunity  at  this  juncture.  "  A  young 
lady  of  so  much  taste  as  he  ascribes  to  this 
one  doesn't  want  to  circumnavigate  a  dance- 
hall  with  a  gentleman  who  gets  himself  up  in 
that  style.  How  would  he  look  embracing 
any  black  velvet  gown  and  corsij  bokay,  I 
should  like  to  know  ?  ' ' 

Gus  laughed  with  great  cordiality.  "  Say, 
you  know  what's  what.  Come  along  with 
me,  and  we'll  cut  Neddy  Bedloe  out.  She's 
a  daisy  of  a  girl. ' ' 

"I'm  your  man,"  said  Tom,  shaking 
hands  energetically  with  his  new  friend. 
"  The  young  lady  sounds  interesting,  and  I 
look  forward  to  making  her  acquaintance." 

"You'll  have  to  look  out  for  Charley 
Shore,"  remarked  a  man  who  had  not 
spoken  before.  "She's  his  gal." 

"  Who's  Charley  Shore?  "  inquired  Gus, 
contemptuously. 

"  Feller  down  to  Aurory." 

"I'll  wager  even  that  she  ain't  no  feller's 
gal  yet,"  said  the  humorous  elderly  smoker 
who  had  first  brought  the  young  lady  into 
the  discussion.  "  She  don't  look  like  it,  an' 
she  don't  ac'  like  it.  The  feller  that  come 


IN  PURSUIT  OF  ADVENTURE  8 1 

up  with  her,  if  that's  Mr.  Shore,  he  jus'  stood 
by  as  tame  as  any  kitten  an'  heard  her  talk 
about  Tom  Nelson.  She  said  as  how  Tom 
had  more  spunk  in  his  little  finger  than  most 
any  man  she'd  ever  seed  in  his  whole  body — 
an'  she  admired  a  man  that  could  hold  up 
trains  like  he  could,  four  times  runnin'  in 
three  weeks,  an'  scare  all  Risin'  Sun  County 
an'  all  Creesote,  too,  out  o'  their  boots.  An' 
she  specified  further  if  ever  she  was  such  a 
plumb  idiot  as  to  marry  any  man,  she'd  look 
out  she  got  one  as  smart  as  him — or  else  one 
smart  enough  to  get  her  her  dimond  neck- 
liss  back  agin — she  warn't  agoin'  to  set  up 
housekeepin'  with  no  hundred  -  an'  -  sixty- 
pound  baby,  not  she,"  and  the  reporter  of 
this  vivacious  conversation  smiled  with  evi- 
dent relish  at  the  recollection  of  its  emphasis. 

"  She's  engaged  to  Charley  Shore,  any- 
how," stated  that  gentleman's  champion. 

"Bein'  engaged  don't  count  much  with 
gals  nowadays,"  replied  the  man  of  wisdom. 
"They  take  it  like  tryin'  on  hats  to  the 
milliner's — you've  got  to  see  lots  before  you 
get  one  that  suits." 

"  You  seem  to  think  you  know  a  lot  about 
women,  Swinney,"  remarked  the  hotel  clerk, 
coldly. 

6 


82          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"Well,  an'  hadn't  I  oughter  ?  "  retorted 
Mr.  Swinney,  good-naturedly.  "Buried 
my  fourth  last  month,  an'  all  my  mother- 
in-laws  livin',  and  got  six  daughters  o'  my 
own,  an'  three  sons  married  to  boot — you 
can  just  bet  I've  had  some  experience  with 
the  sex." 

"  Has  this  same  man  really  held  up  four 
trains  in  three  weeks  ?  "  asked  Tom,  wishing 
to  get  back  to  the  previous  question. 

"  Well,  an'  where  have  you  been  that  you 
don't  know  it?  "  inquired  Mr.  Swinney,  sus- 
piciously. 

"  This  gentleman  has  only  just  arrived  here 
by  train,  an'  can't  be  expected  to  be  fa- 
miliar with  all  our  local  news,"  said  the 
hotel  clerk.  "  You  haven't  registered,  by  the 
way,"  he  added  to  Tom,  pushing  the  open 
book  towards  him. 

Tom  signed  without  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion, "  J.  Chance,  Burr  Oak,  Nebraska." 

"  Glad  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Chance,"  said  Gus,  cordially.  "  My  name's 
Dicker — Augustus  B.  Dicker." 

Tom  rejoined  with  equal  cordiality,  and 
then  Mr.  Dicker  excused  himself  to  make  his 
toilet  for  the  ball,  his  place  being  taken  by 
a  scrawny  boy. 


IN  PURSUIT  OF  ADVENTURE  83 

"Local  news,"  murmured  Mr.  Swinney, 
as  if  to  himself,  "  Gus  Dicker's  crazy.  These 
here  train  robberies  are  a  national  disgrace. 
They  ain't  nobody  oughter  be  ignorant  of 
'em — let  alone  any  traveller  what  has  his 
life  in  his  hands. ' ' 

"  Well  if  you  enlighten  me,  Mr.  Swin- 
ney," said  Tom,  with  engaging  candor, 
"  then  I  shall  no  longer  be  ignorant." 

This  view  of  the  matter  appeared  to  appeal 
to  Mr.  Swinney,  and  he  forthwith  narrated 
all  that  was  known  of  the  train  robberies 
which  had  so  upset  Rising  Sun  and  Creosote 
Counties  and  alarmed  the  whole  State. 

A  gang  of  masked  men,  computed  to  num- 
ber anywhere  from  fifteen  to  thirty,  led  by 
the  soft-voiced  and  gentlemanly  desperado 
who  had  won  Miss  Roray's  admiration,  had 
terrorized  train  after  train,  met  with  no  re- 
sistance whatever  from  train-crews  or  pas- 
sengers, and  carried  off  large  booty.  They 
seemed  to  have  mysterious  means  of  infor- 
mation, for  in  each  case  there  had  been  con- 
signments of  gold  in  the  express-cars.  Quan- 
tities of  both  money  and  valuables  also  had 
been  taken  from  the  passengers.  It  was 
generally  estimated  that  in  the  three  previ- 
ous hauls  the  robbers  had  secured  something 


84          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

like  $150,000,  and  this  last  raid  had  brought 
them  good  treasure  trove.  The  attacks  had 
followed  each  other  in  such  rapid  succession 
that  people  had  hardly  had  time  to  realize 
what  was  happening  and  to  take  action  upon 
it.  The  sheriffs,  whether  they  were  paralyzed 
by  fright,  which  was  not  a  likely  hypothesis 
in  the  case  of  Aurora's  Terror,  or  had  been 
purchased  by  Mr.  Nelson,  which  was  even 
less  likely,  at  all  events  did  not  stir  them- 
selves. There  were  forts  full  of  soldiers 
within  short  distance,  but  it  was  not  easy 
to  set  in  motion  the  unwieldy  and  rust  cov- 
ered machine  that  should  in  the  end  order 
them  into  the  field.  Moreover,  the  difficul- 
ties in  the  way  of  accomplishing  anything 
were  enormous.  A  handful  of  outlaws  could 
shift  about  with  the  greatest  ease — strike 
here,  strike  there — and  be  off  before  their 
pursuers  could  know  where  they  were,  much 
less  attack  them. 

"  'Taint  the  millingtary  nor  the  perlice 
that's  wanted — it's  public  opinion,"  stated 
Mr.  Swinney.  "Those  men  lives  some- 
wheres,  and  they  gets  food,  and  some  folks 
knows  something  about  'em,  sure.  But 
they  ain't  nobody  that's  willin'  to  let  on. 
In  fact,  they  do  it  so  awful  cute  that  some- 


IN  PURSUIT  OF  ADVENTURE  85 

how  people  seem  to  be  pleased  by  it,  so  long 
as  they  don't  lose  no  money  themselves. 
And  there's  actually  some  folks,  like  this 
here  Jerroray  from  Aurory,  that  even  'pears 
to  take  pride  in  Tom  Nelson  an'  his  goin's 
on.  Which  I  may  say  I  can't  sympathize 
with." 

"  P'raps  if  you'd  met  him,  like  me,  you 
would  sympathize,"  said  a  gaunt  ranchman 
in  a  red  flannel  shirt  and  long  boots,  shift- 
ing his  quid  with  some  embarrassment  as  all 
eyes  turned  upon  him. 

"An"  then  agin,  perhaps  I  wouldn't," 
retorted  Mr.  Swinney,  with  scorn. 

"What  was  your  experience?"  asked 
Tom  with  eager  interest. 

"  I's  on  the  last  train  he  held  up  afore 
this  one,  and  when  he  come  to  me,  says  I  to 
him,  'Tom  Nelson,' says  I,  'I'm  a  poor 
farmer,'  says  I,  'an'  if  you  want  my  last 
plunk  you  can  have  it,  but  my  woman' 11 
have  to  go  'thout  her  new  dress  an'  the  kid 
won't  get  no  go-cart.  I  reckon  he'll  cry,' 
says  I,  '  but  here's  ten  dollars  if  you've  got 
to  have  it,'  says  I.  Gentlemen,  Tom  Nel- 
son he  handed  over  to  me  a  ten  dollar  bill 
outen  his  own  pocket,  he  did.  '  Keep  your 
plunks,'  says  he,  '  and  take  this  to  buy  yer 


86          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

kid  a  go-cart  and  anything  else  he'd  like  as 
a  present  from  Tom  Nelson.  An'  I  most 
cleaned  out  the  store  up  here  to  Bud,  an' 
that  kid  he  knows  where  it  all  comes  from, 
an'  you  can  bet  Tom  Nelson  he  ain't  got 
no  enemies  to  our  house. ' ' 

"I  heard  he  said  he  didn't  want  no 
workin'  man's  cash,  nohow,"  said  another 
smoker. 

"  An'  I've  heard  that  he  haint  never  took 
no  cash  from  coves  what  lives  in  Risin'  Sun 
County  or  Creosote,"  said  a  fourth. 

"  How  about  these  young  ladies'  dimond 
rings  an'  bracelets  an'  necklises,  comin'  up 
from  Aurory  to  the  ball  to-night  ?  "  inquired 
Mr.  Swinney,  with  sarcastic  inflection. 

"  Dimonds  ain't  money,  an'  you  heard 
'em  all  say  as  how  he  give  'em  back  their 
purses,  an'  said  he  warn't  the  gent  to  deprive 
a  lady  of  her  travellin'  expenses. ' ' 

"Awful  polite  to  give  ladies  back  four  or 
five  mean  little  dollars,  when  he's  tuck  jewels 
worth  a  couple  o'  hundred  or  so, ' '  was  Mr. 
Swinney's  comment. 

"Jewels  is  luxuries,  he  says,"  remarked 
number  three.  "An'  I  agree  with  him. 
Anybody  as  can  afford  dimonds,  an'  keep 
'em  out  o'  hock,  too,  for  wearin*  purposes, 


IN  PURSUIT  OF  ADVENTURE  87 

ain't  exactly  poverty  struck,  an'  it  ain't 
agoin'  to  break  'em  to  pay  toll  to  Tom  Nel- 
son. Tom  Nelson  don't  want  to  break  no- 
body." 

"The  poor  man's  friend?"  suggested 
Tom  Norrie. 

"Exactly!"  shouted  Mr.  Swinney. 
"You've  hit  it,  Mr.  Chance.  He's  the 
poor  man's  friend,  which  no  household 
should  be  without  him  !  What  did  I  tell 
yer  'bout  these  folks  bein'  on  his  side? 
They  ain't  one  of  them  here  that'd  join  a 
posse  to  catch  Tom  Nelson.  I'm  even 
thinkin'  they'd  fight  on  his  side,  stid  of 
aginst  him.  None  of  'em  seems  to  recolleck 
that  he  ain't  no  more'n  a  common  thief." 

"Ain't  no  common  thief  about  Tom  Nel- 
son," declared  one  champion. 

"He's  a  gentleman,  Tom  Nelson  is,  an' 
that's  more'n  "you  can  say  o'  some  folks  what 
ain't  thieves,"  said  another. 

"  Tom  Nelson  don't  hurt  us,  an'  we  ain't 
goin'  to  hurt  him  till  he  does,"  declaimed 
the  third.  "  He  don't  burgle  our  banks  nor 
our  stores.  He  don't  bleed  the  farmer  nor 
tech  the  upright  citizen.  He  don't  want  to 
scare  our  wives  nor  our  kids,  an'  he'll  keep 
on  lettin'  us  alone  just  as  long  as  we  let  him 


88         YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

alone.  But  if  we  try  muxin'  with  his  busi- 
ness they  ain't  no  tellin'  what  he  might  do 
to  our'n.  Thief  or  no  thief  I'm  for  lettin' 
of  him  alone  an'  keepin'  on  the  good  side  of 
him."  This  eloquent  statement  of  the  case 
was  followed  by  a  little  murmur  of  approval, 
even  from  those  that  had  at  first  seemed  to 
side  with  the  strictures  of  Mr.  Swinney. 

"  None  of  you  ain't  got  no  patriotism," 
said  that  gentleman  in  disgust.  "These 
train  robberies  is  a  disgrace  to  the  State  an' 
to  the  whole  country." 

"  Patriotism  oughter  begin  at  home,  like 
charity  an'  them  things,"  retorted  the  leader 
of  the  majority.  "  An'  I  guess  we'll  feel  sat- 
isfied with  ourn  if  Risin'  Sun  and  Creosote 
Counties  gets  out  of  it  with  whole  skins." 

This  sentiment  was  applauded  warmly, 
and  Tom  Norrie's  interest  in  Tom  Nelson 
grew  with  the  signs  of  his  popularity. 

"  You  fellers'll  be  sending  Mr.  Nelson  to 
Congress  next,"  he  remarked.  "Nobody 
would  have  half  a  chance  against  him.  I 
believe  you'll  make  him  President  of  the 
United  States  before  you've  done  with  him. ' ' 

The  majority  and  minority  both  grinned 
at  this  idea,  but  Tom's  further  questions 
about  the  personality  and  methods  of  the 


IN  PURSUIT  OF  ADVENTURE  89 

outlaw  were  cut  short  by  the  appearance  of 
Mr.  Dicker  in  full  ball  regalia.  He  wore 
the  regulation  swallow-tail  coat,  with  gray 
trousers  in  a  heavy  stripe,  a  white  piqud 
waistcoat  cut  high,  a  straight  collar  cut 
higher,  and  a  four-in-hand  tie  of  pale  blue 
satin.  By  way  of  further  decorations  he  had 
on,  of  course,  his  diamond  pin,  a  watch- 
chain  and  charms  festooned  about  the  white 
pique  facade,  and  several  magnificent  rings. 

"  Whew  !  "  said  Tom,  at  sight  of  this  re- 
splendent vision  ;  "if  your  town  here's  a 
bud,  I  should  say  you  were  the  full-blown 
blossom !  ' ' 

Everybody  laughed  again,  but  Mr.  Dicker, 
conscious  of  his  superlatively  fine  appear- 
ance, was  only  flattered  by  these  demonstra- 
tions, and  swelled  visibly  at  the  plaudits  of 
his  townsmen. 

"I'll  have  to  make  a  pretty  big  bluff  at 
Miss  Roray,  if  I'm  going  to  get  her  eyes  off 
you,"  remarked  Tom,  further;  and  he  and 
Mr.  Dicker  made  their  exit  amid  renewed 
gayety,  while  the  whole  assembly  adjourned 
to  the  ball-room  to  see  the  fun. 


CHAPTER  VI 

FAIR  LADY 

There  were  many  pretty  girls  at  the  ball, 
but  "  Jerroray  "  was  easily  the  prettiest  and 
easily  the  belle  of  the  occasion.  She  was  a 
fine  tall  creature,  of  magnificent  physical  de- 
velopment, with  a  waist  so  small  in  com- 
parison with  her  full  hips  and  swelling  bust 
that  the  alarmed  spectator  was  perforce  led 
to  wonder  what  she  did  with  her  inside  an- 
atomy. There  was  surely  not  room  within 
that  slender  zone  of  velvet  for  the  necessary 
machinery  to  keep  so  much  bloom  still 
blooming.  Tom  Norrie  regarded  it  with 
awe,  and  wondered,  as  most  men  do,  why 
women  should  consider  such  deformity  beau- 
tiful. But  the  attractions  of  Miss  Roray's 
head  being  superlative,  he  did  not  look  long 
at  these  exaggerations  of  her  figure.  She 
possessed  a  quantity  of  blonde  hair,  done  up 
in  a  great  pointed  knob  high  at  the  back,  dec- 
orated lavishly  with  gold  pins,  and  finished 


FAIR  LADY  91 

off  with  the  usual  thick  fuzz  around  the 
face.  But  her  eyes  were  so  large  and  clear, 
her  skin  so  dazzlingly  white,  her  neck  and 
shoulders  so  splendid,  that  even  this  vulgar 
and  inartistic  coiffure  could  not  spoil  her, 
as  it  spoils  so  many  merely  pretty  women. 
And  beneath  the  blonde  fuzz  that  veiled 
her  forehead  was  the  saving  grace  of  dark, 
straight  eyebrows,  which  seemed  to  Tom 
the  means  of  rescuing  her  countenance  from 
the  class  of  the  colorless  blonde,  and  invest- 
ing it  at  once  with  a  quality  of  vividness, 
and  even  daring,  that  he  found  wonderfully 
attractive. 

But  the  young  lady's  demeanor  was  not  at 
all  that  of  daring  and  pride.  She  did  not 
hold  her  head  particularly  high,  nor  did  she 
often  toss  it.  She  appeared  to  be  having  an 
extraordinarily  good  time,  and  she  didn't  in 
the  least  mind  showing  it.  This  childlike 
air  of  naive  jollity  seemed  to  Tom  curiously 
out  of  keeping  both  with  her  really  splendid 
beauty  and  with  the  magnificent  simplici- 
ty of  her  attire.  Her  trained  black  velvet 
fitted  her  superbly,  its  plainness  showing 
every  line  of  her  figure.  The  bodice  was 
cut  extremely  low,  and  the  great  puffs  of  the 
sleeves  were  caught  up  to  conceal  as  little  as 


92          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

possible  of  the  round,  white  arm.  The  only 
relief  in  the  severity  of  the  gown  came  in 
the  heavy  white  lace  around  the  open  neck, 
and  in  a  great  bunch  of  bluish  purple  flow- 
ers, which  lay  upon  the  bosom  as  if  half  to 
cover  the  dazzling  display  permitted  by  the 
low  lines  of  the  bodice.  It  was  a  costume 
fit  for  a  duchess,  a  costume  that  indicated 
the  dignity  of  pride  and  high -breeding,  that 
would  have  been  appropriate  to  Miss  Roray 
had  she  been  twice  the  age  she  seemed 
("  by  George,"  said  Tom  to  himself,  "  what 
a  stunner  she'll  be  at  forty — five  times  as 
good  looking  as  she  is  now!  ") — and  that 
was  singularly  inappropriate  to  the  easy  man- 
ners and  the  romping  merriment  with  which 
she  played  her  part  in  the  festivities  of  the 
evening. 

"  I'll  be  d — d  if  she  ain't  the  stunningest 
girl  I  ever  laid  eyes  on,"  said  Mr.  Dicker, 
in  a  tone  of  suppressed  enthusiasm.  "  Glad 
I  put  on  all  my  own  clothes,"  he  added,  re- 
garding himself  with  fond  pride  before  he 
sallied  forth  to  conquer. 

But  in  spite  of  the  quantity  of  clothes  he 
had  put  on,  and  all  the  lavish  adornments  of 
his  person,  Mr.  Dicker  did  not  conquer ;  nor 
yet  did  Mr.  Neddy  Bedloe ;  and  Mr.  Charley 


FAIR  LADY  93 

Shore  himself,  donor  of  the  large  solitaire 
diamond  which  had  decorated  Miss  Roray's 
finger  until  it  was  removed  by  the  train  rob- 
ber this  very  night,  even  Mr.  Charley  Shore 
was  minus  the  extra  privileges  of  an  en- 
gaged man  which  had  lately  accrued  to  his 
share.  All  these  gentlemen  were  entirely 
cast  into  the  shade  by  a  newcomer,  and  this 
favored  stranger  was,  to  Tom's  own  surprise 
and  everyone  else's,  the  gentleman  who  was 
introduced  as  Mr.  Chance,  of  Nebraska. 

Tom's  costume  was  anything  but  metro- 
politan; like  Mr.  Bedloe,  he  had  added 
no  embellishments  for  the  occasion.  Jerro- 
ray  scarcely  noticed  him  as  he  was  led  up 
to  her  to  be  presented  by  his  elegant  friend, 
the  hotel  clerk.  But  from  the  moment  Tom 
began  speaking  to  her,  explaining  his  special 
interest  in  making  her  acquaintance  through 
her  reported  interest  in  Mr.  Nelson,  the  out- 
law, the  young  lady  gave  him  an  undivided 
and  complete  attention.  She  looked  be- 
wildered, puzzled,  questioning,  and  her  fine 
brows  drew  closer  together  than  ever  in  a 
frown  of  perplexity. 

"Say,  you  ain't  from  this  vicinity,  are 
you?"  she  inquired  after  a  minute,  inter- 
rupting what  he  was  saying. 


94          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

Tom  admitted  that  he  was  not. 

"  Then  where  've  I  seen  you  before  ?  " 

Tom,  being  confident  that  she  had  never 
seen  him  before,  was  unable  to  conjecture 
where. 

"  Well,  you're  mighty  familiar  to  me  some- 
how. I  don't  know  whether  you  favor  any 
of  my  friends  or  not,  but  anyhow  seems  as 

if  I'd  known  you  ever  so  long. You 

seem  so  natural,  somehow,"  she  continued, 
regarding  him  closely.  "  Don't  he  seem  so 
to  you,  Charley?  Don't  he  seem  awful  nat- 
ural ?  ' '  she  inquired  of  Mr.  Shore. 

That  gentleman  somewhat  gruffly  couldn't 
say  that  he  did,  couldn't  say  that  there  was 
anything  familiar  to  him  in  the  appearance 
or  manners  of  Mr.  Chance. 

"Well,  he  seems  awful  natural  to  me," 
repeated  Miss  Roray.  "  Awful  nice,  too," 
she  added,  with  a  little  laugh.  "  I  can't 
recolleck  who  you  remind  me  of,  but  I  know 
it's  somebody  I  liked,"  she  declared  with 
artless  candor. 

"You  are  very  flattering,"  said  Tom, 
with  an  elegant  bow,  quite  out  of  keeping 
with  the  character  he  had  assumed  in  the 
name  of  Chance.  Then,  the  music  striking 
up,  he  covered  his  blushes  by  begging  for  a 


FAIR  LADY  95 

waltz,  and  Miss  Roray,  coolly  requesting 
Charley  "  to  excuse  her,"  granted  him  the 
favor. 

Now  Tom,  in  the  season  of  his  court- 
ship of  Janet  Trumbull,  had  become  an  ex- 
pert dancer,  and  finding  that  he  had  an 
excellent  partner,  he  dropped  at  once  into 
his  favorite  rhythmical,  smooth  glide.  It 
pleased  him  that  the  young  lady  should  ap- 
preciate this  poetry  of  motion  to  the  extent 
of  not  spoiling  it  with  attempts  at  conver- 
sation. 

"  My,  but  you  just  know  how  to  waltz  !  " 
she  declared  when  the  musi  c  stopped .  ' '  They 
ain't  a  man  in  this  room  can  do  it  like  that. 
Where' d  you  learn  ?  " 

"  The  other  side  of  the  Mississippi  River," 
said  Tom,  with  a  smile. 

Jerroray  smiled,  too.  "You  ain't  goin' 
to  tell  me  anything  you  don't  want  me  to 
know,  are  you?  "  she  inquired,  shrewdly. 

"Ah!"  said  Tom.  "Do  you  think  I 
could  conceal  from  you  anything  that  you 
cared  to  know  about  my  insignificant  self? 
Speak  the  word  and  I  lay  before  you  my 
whole  history." 

She  looked  puzzled  for  a  moment,  then 
again  broke  into  her  easy  smile.  "  Say,  you 


96          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

ain't  no  such  chump  as  that !  I  know  better ; 
you're  talkin'  through  your  hat !  " 

"Well,  if  you  don't  want  my  history 
you  needn't  have  it — especially  if  you'll 
tell  me  your  experiences  with  the  train  rob- 
ber. I  understand  you  took  quite  a  fancy 
to  him." 

"  I  should  just  guess  !  "  said  Miss  Roray, 
with  emphasis.  "  Say,  he  was  a  real  gentle- 
man, now,  an'  you  wouldn't  expect  that  of 
a  highway  robber,  would  you  ?  I  can  tell 
you,  it  just  knocked  me  flat." 

"  Er — how  did  he  show  it  exactly?  " 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you.  It  was  this  way. 
Me'n  Charley  was  discussin'  the  situation. 
I  had  all  my  diamonds  with  me,  an'  of 
course  I  just  hated  to  lose  'em,  so  I  says  to 
Charley,  '  I'm  goin'  to  ask  him  to  let  me 
have  'em  back,'  says  I.  An'  Charley  he 
sat  there  shiverin'  like  a  mould  o'  jelly,  an' 
says  he,  '  If  you  ain't  a  d — n  fool,  Geral- 
dine,  you'll  keep  your  mouth  shut  for  once, 
unless  you  want  your  head  blowed  off.'  An' 
that  made  me  mad,  an'  I  says  to  Charley, 
says  I,  '  Charley  Shore,  nothin'  ever  gave 
you  any  right  to  call  me  names  or  swear  at 
me,  even  if  you  are  scared  blue,  an','  says  I, 
'  I  shall  do  as  I  like,'  says  I.  So  when  Tom 


FAIR  LADY  97 

Nelson  got  up  to  us  I  smiles  at  his  old  black 
mask  just  as  sweet  as  I  knows  how." 

"  It's  uncommonly  sweet,  too,"  declared 
Tom,  with  a  sigh,  ' '  much  too  sweet  for  a 
train  robber  !  ' ' 

"  Get  along,"  said  Miss  Roray,  elegantly. 
"  An'  says  I  to  him,  '  Mr.  Nelson,'  says  I, 
'here's  all  my  diamonds,'  says  I ;  '  if  you 
want  to  rob  a  poor  girl  who  never  did  you 
no  harm,  but  I'm  likely  to  have  a  pretty 
poor  sort  of  a  husband  to  support  one  o'  these 
days,' — pointin'  over  my  shoulder  to  Char- 
ley, sittin'  there  awful  glum  an'  scared — an' 
there'll  come  a  time  when  our  last  crust' 11 
be  gone,  an'  I  shall  want  'em  awful  bad  to 
put  'em  up  with  my  uncle,  an'  get  some 
good,  solid  plunks  in  exchange — else  I'll 
have  to  take  in  washin',  '  says  I.  '  You 
wouldn't  want  me  to  take  in  washin',  would 
you,  Mr.  Nelson  ?  '  An'  he  touched  his  hat 
like  a  gentleman  soon's  I  spoke  to  him,  the 
man  behind  a-keepin'  everybody  else's  hands 
up  all  the  time,  an'  he  a-drawin'  on  me,  an' 
now  he  began  laffin'  as  if  he  was  awful 
pleased  ;  an'  says  he,  '  My  dear  young  lady,' 
says  he — them  was  his  exact  words — '  I'll 
have  to  take  your  diamonds  now,  but  per- 
haps you'll  see  'em  again  some  day,  an'  if 


98          YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

you  do,'  says  he,  '  think  of  me.  An'  let  me 
give  you  a  little  piece  of  advice,'  says  he,  '  if 
it  ain't  takin'  too  great  a  liberty.'  '  Not  at 
all,'  says  I;  'advise  ahead.'  'Well,'  says 
he,  'don't  be  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to 
marry,  an'  when  you  do  finally  take  the  fatal 
step,  look  out  to  get  a  man  who'll  not  let 
your  diamonds  be  took  away  from  you. '  An' 
then,  all  smilin,'  he  took  Charley's  things, 
Charley  bein'  as  mad  as  hops,  but  forkin' 
'em  all  over  as  meek's  Pike's  Peak.  An' 
says  I,  '  Oh  !  Lforgot  my  hairpins  ;  '  an'  says 
he,  '  Let  'em  alone ;  they  look  too  attractive 
to  be  disturbed."  An'  he  wouldn't  take  my 
purse  nor  any  of  the  girls',  an'  for  my  part 
I  think  he's  just  an  elegant  outlaw,  and  I'd 
like  awful  well  to  meet  him  again — now, 
wouldn't  you?  " 

"Well — I  don't  quite  know,"  laughed 
Tom.  "  Of  course,  not  being  an  attractive 
young  lady ' ' 

"Oh,  I  mean  if  you  was  me.  Somehow 
I  never  dreamed  Tom  Nelson  would  be  like 
that.  I  sort  o'  expected  he'd  be  harsh  with 
me,  like  Charley  said,  and  tell  me  to  hold 
my  gab;  but  my  !  you  don't  often  meet  a 
politer  young  gent.  Say,  don't  you  think  it 
would  be  fun  to  be  a  highway  robber  or  a 


FAIR  LADY  99 

pirate,  or  somethin'  of  that  sort  ?     Seems  to 
me  it's  awful  romantic." 

"It  would  be  just  immense  fun,"  said 
Tom,  with  genuine  enthusiasm.  "If  you 
could  only  have  the  risk  and  the  excitement 
without  being  a  thief,  I'd  join  Tom  Nelson's 
gang  to-morrow." 

"Say,  you're  a  peach  !  Shake  !  "  and 
this  engaging  young  woman  held  out  her 
hand  with  an  enthusiasm  that  matched  his 
own.  It  was  a  fine  large  hand,  such  as  suited 
the  generous  proportions  of  its  owner,  and 
there  was  nothing  coy  or  squeamish  in  its 
frank,  warm  grasp. 

Messrs.  Dicker,  Bedloe,  Shore  &  Co.  ob- 
served this  passage  of  hands  with  rage  in 
their  hearts,  and  at  a  later  day  Tom  had 
cause  to  regret  the  enmity  so  innocently 
earned.  But  he  was  really  not  monopolizing 
Jerroray  any  more  than  she  was  monopoliz- 
ing him  ;  and  at  all  events  they  were  both  so 
absorbed  that  they  were  happily  unaware  of 
the  malevolent  glances  that  fell  upon  them. 

"  You  know  I  like  a  man  that's  got  some 
spunk,"  continued  Miss  Roray,  explaining 
her  impulse  while  her  hand  was  still  in 
Tom's.  "  To  tell  the  plain  truth,  I'm  get- 
tin'  awful  sick  of  Charley  Shore.  Funny, 


loo        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR   LIFE 

too,  when  it  warn't  two  months  ago  I  was 
dreadful  stuck  on  him  !  I  know  why  well 
enough,  too.  He's  sort  of  a  pretty  feller, 
an'  he  looked  so  kind  o'  nice  and  mannish 
in  his  dress  suit,  an'  then  there  was  some- 
thin'  awful  fascinatin'  'bout  the  way  he 
smoked  cigarettes.  I  used  to  watch  him  light 
'em  and  then  puff  away  so  easy,  an'  think  I 
wouldn't  mind  a  bit  havin'  him  try  to  kiss 
me,  though  I  always  slapped  the  other  fellers. 
So  when  he  popped  I  said  '  Yes,'  though  my 
dad  told  me  I  was  an  awful  fool — an'  Ter- 
ence was  right,  too,  an'  I'll  tell  him  so  when 
I  go  home  to-morrer.  But  I  can't  give 
Charley  back  his  ring,"  she  added,  with  her 
little  laugh.  "  He'll  have  to  ask  Tom  Nel- 
son for  that !  " 

"  Poor  Mr.  Shore  !  "  said  Tom.  "  Is  his 
fate  sealed  ?  Has  it  all  happened  in  a  day, 
or  had  the  course  of  love  been  checkered 
previously?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  we've  quarrelled  a  lot,  of 
course,  because  Charley's  awful  exactin',  an* 
I've  been  brought  up  to  do  as  I  please,  an' 
no  questions  asked.  I  couldn't  stand  his 
interferin'  way,  an'  give  him  notice  to  quit 
long  ago,  but  I  don't  know's  I  thought  I 
shouldn't  marry  him  until  to-night.  Some- 


FAIR  LADY  101 

how,  if  there's  anything  in  the  world  I  hate 
it's  a  coward,  an'  I  can't  get  over  his  sittin' 
there,  in  a  blue  funk  like,  an'  handin'  his 
things  over  to  Tom  Nelson  just  as  cheap's 
dirt,  an'  never  sayin'  a  word  !  I  tell  you  he 
didn't  look  very  pretty  then,  an'  I  can't 
make  it  seem  that  he  ever  will  look  pretty 
to  me  again  !  ' ' 

"  He  couldn't  very  well  have  resisted  Mr. 
Nelson,"  said  Tom,  in  a  spirit  of  fairness, 
remembering  how  his  own  engagement  had 
been  broken  on  similar  grounds.  Were 
women  all  alike  after  all?  Did  his  dark, 
fascinating  Janet,  highly  educated  and  re- 
fined as  she  was,  think  and  feel  like  this  ex- 
traordinary flower  of  Western  civilization  ? 
But  he  hadn't  much  time  for  reflection,  for 
Jerroray  was  replying  with  voluble  sarcasm 
to  his  defence  of  her  fianct,  and  he  had  to 
listen  and  laugh. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  said.  "Of  course  he 
couldn't  very  well  resist — that's  what  all  the 
men  think — poor  scared  little  dears  ! — an'  so 
Mr.  Tom  Nelson  has  his  way  with  us,  an' 
ropes  in  the  plunks  an'  the  diamonds.  I 
look  pretty  without  my  necklace,  don't  I?  " 

"You  do,  indeed,"  declared  Tom,  with 
sincerity. 


102        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  It's  nice,  ain't  it,  to  go  to  a  ball  with- 
out any  jewels  ?  No  bracelets,  no  pins,  no 
decorations  of  any  sort — I  tell  you  I  feel 
about  half  dressed.  An'  you  needn't  let  on 
to  me  that  if  any  one  man  on  a  train  had  the 
spunk  to  get  up  an'  make  a  stand  some  of 
the  rest  wouldn't  help  him,  an'  they  couldn't 
clean  out  the  train  robbers  in  less  time  than 
it  takes  to  tell  it.  No,  sir,  I  know  better. 
They  say  Tom  Nelson's  got  a  great  big  gang ; 
but  he  had  only  one  man  in  our  car  to  keep 
hands  held  up,  an'  one  to  watch  the  engi- 
neer and  fireman,  an',  so  far  as  heard  from, 
one  other  watchman  who  was  poppin'  away 
outside  to  keep  the  folks  scared.  Now,  of 
course,  there  may  have  been  twenty  men 
round  the  train,  but  that's  all  anybody  saw 
or  knew  about,  an'  I'll  bet  you  even  that 
he  ain't  got  in  all  more'n  six  men  to  help 
him.  My  theory  about  Tom  Nelson  is  that 
he's  puttin'  up  a  great  big  bluff,  an'  if  any 
of  these  tame  lambs  round  here  that  call 
'emselves  men  had  any  spunk  at  all  they  could 
just  call  his  hand  and  show  him  up.  But 
there  ain't  one  that's  a  match  for  him — an' 
that's  what  I  like  about  him,  an'  don't  like 
about  your  Shores  and  your  Dickers  an'  your 
this  and  thats.  I  like  men  an'  not  sheep." 


FAIR  LADY  103 

"I'm  sure  the  men  would  reciprocate,  if 
there  were  any,"  said  Tom. 

"Well,  now,"  declared  the  young  lady, 
"  you're  what  I  call  a  man.  You  could  see 
the  fun  in  bein'  a  train  robber,  an'  you'd 
like  to  hold  up  trains  yourself,  but  when  I 
asked  Charley  Shore,  he  just  turned  up  his 
nose  awful  pious,  an'  says  he,  '  No  man  as 
is  a  man  could  ever  do  anything  so  low  an' 
dishonest — common  thievin'  it  is  an'  no 
more. '  An'  says  I  to  him,  '  No  man  as  is  a 
sheep,  which,  it  seems  to  me,  you  all  are 
round  here,  would  ever  dare  do  anything 
so  gritty  an'  smart.  You'd  be  scared  out 
o'  your  lives  an'  funk  it  all.'  An'  then 
says  he,  '  Geraldine '  (when  he  calls  me 
Geraldine  that  means  he's  mad),  '  you're 
crazy,'  an'  says  I  to  him,  '  Charles,  you're 
a  timid  little  babe.'  An'  then  we  stopped 
talkin',  an'  I've  only  danced  with  him 
once  to-night,  an'  to-morrer  he'll  get  the 
mitten." 

"Poor  Mr.  Shore,"  said  Tom,  with  feel- 
ing ;  then  added,  gallantly,  "  but  the  world's 
the  gainer. 

"  The  world  ?  "  queried  Miss  Roray,  puz- 
zled. 

"  The  other  men  who  were  left  before  to 


104       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

envy  Mr.  Shore  his  luck,"  explained  Tom. 
' '  Now  we  all  have  a  chance  !  ' ' 

"  Oh,"  said  Jerroray,  "  you  meant  that  ?  " 
Then  she  turned  her  big  gray  eyes  squarely 
into  his  for  a  moment,  with  a  look  which 
was  much  more  of  curious  scrutiny  and  con- 
sideration than  of  coquetry.  "  Well,"  she 
remarked,  finally,  "  if  you  call  it  a  chance, 
all  I  can  say  is  that  the  man  who  gets  me 
back  my  diamonds  will  have  about  all  there 
is  of  it." 

"  You  mean  that?  "  said  Tom. 

"  You  bet,"  she  replied,  briefly.  "  I  al- 
ways mean  what  I  say.  An'  I'm  pretty 
safe  on  this,  because  it'll  take  considerable 
more'n  any  chump  to  beat  Tom  Nelson." 

"  That's  true  enough,"  said  Tom. 
"You've  given  us  a  magnificent  chance — a 
chance  in  the  first  place  to  prove  we  aren't 
chumps,  and  in  the  second  place  to  win  a 
splendid  reward  for  not  being  chumps." 

"  But  suppose  you  don't  any  of  you  get 
'em,  what'll  I  do  then?"  inquired  Miss 
Roray,  with  great  seriousness. 

"That  is  a  predicament  which  I  can't 
contemplate  with  equanimity,"  returned 
Mr.  Norrie,  with  equal  gravity. 

"  I  know;  I'll  hunt  up  Tom  Nelson  and 


FAIR  LADY  105 

Set  my  cap  for  him  !  "  cried  the  young 
lady.  "You  know  I  don't  think  it  would 
be  half  bad  fun  to  marry  a  train  robber.  It 
would  be  an  awful  excitin'  life — you'd  never 
get  bored  and  wish  you'd  married  some 
more  entertainin'  gent." 

' '  If  you  talk  that  way  I  shall  become  an 
outlaw  at  once  in  good  earnest,"  declared 
Tom. 

Jerroray  emitted  her  pleased  little  laugh. 
"  Say,    you're   awful  nice.     Wish  I  could 
think  who  you  remind  me  of. ' ' 

"Oh,  don't  bother  about  that;  it  just 
wastes  time  in  which  you  might  be  thinking 
of  me  directly,  if  you  would  deign  to  be  so 
very  kind  and  flattering,"  and  Tom  bowed 
humbly. 

"  I'll  bet  you've  got  another  girl  some- 
where that  you  like  better' n  me,  for  all  your 
fine  speeches,"  said  Miss  Roray,  shrewdly. 
"Hain't  you,  now?  Well,  you  needn't 
look  at  me  like  that,  or  Charley  Shore' 11  bite 
your  head  off.  Goodness  gracious,  what  a 
lot  of  time  I've  been  spendin'  on  you  any- 
how !  How  many  dances  have  we  missed  ? 
Come,  I  must  be  hustlin'  round  an'  gettin' 
my  card  worked  off. ' ' 

"You  must  give  me  some  more  dances/' 


io6       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

said  Tom,  trying  to  get  possession  of  the 
much  pencilled  card  which  she  brandished 
before  him. 

"  No,  siree,  Chance  —  not  just  now. 
You've  had  enough  for  the  present.  But 
later  on  in  the  evenin'  we'll  talk  about  it, 
an"  if  you  take  a  shine  to  go  down  to  Aurory 
with  me  to-morrer  mornin',  I'll  undertake 
to  make  you  have  a  bang-up  good  time." 

"Agreed,"  said  Tom.  "I  was  going 
anyway,  but  I'm  all  the  more  glad  to  be 
invited,  and  if  I'm  to  be  your  knight  and 
look  up  your  property,  you've  got  to  fit  me 
out  with  your  colors,  power  of  attorney,  and 
other  trifles  of  that  nature." 

"  Not  much,"  retorted  Miss  Roray.  "  If 
you  can't  do  it  on  your  own  hook  you' 11  get 
no  help  from  me."  And  she  blew  him  a 
saucy  kiss  as  she  waltzed  away  on  the  arm 
of  Mr.  Augustus  Dicker,  who  glowered 
blackly  at  Mr.  Chance,  as,  indeed,  he  had 
been  doing  industriously  for  half  an  hour  or 
more,  in  company  with  several  other  gentle- 
men, who  shared  his  grievance. 

"Well,"  said  Tom  to  himself,  here's  my 
chance  for  an  adventure  at  last,  and  I 
couldn't  ask  for  a  better  !  A  youthful  pirate, 
who  is  at  the  same  time  a  popular  idol,  to 


FAIR  LADY  107 

be  encountered  in  the  gallant  behalf  of  a 
young  lady,  who  talks  slang  and  bad  gram- 
mar, yet  dresses  like  a  duchess  and  is  as 
handsome  a  woman  as  I've  ever  seen — yes, 
handsomer  man  Janet  even.  .  .  .  But, 
suppose  I  secure  the  diamonds — and  she  falls 
on  my  neck  for  gratitude  ?  A  man  might  do 
worse  than  marry  so  engaging  a  young  per- 
son— but — do  I  want  to  marry  ?  And  am  I 
fitted  to  make  the  fair  Jerroray  happy  ?  ' ' 

He  laughed  spontaneously  at  the  thought 
of  such  a  matrimonial  joke,  and  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  in  the  vicinity  stared  at  his 
solitary  merriment. 

"  But  when  a  hero  begins  to  reflect  he 
ceases  to  be  a  hero,"  went  on  Mr.  Norrie ; 
11  and  if  I'm  going  in  for  this  adventure  I 
must  take  it  as  it  comes,  a  day  at  a  time, 
and  let  the  future  attend  to  itself.  If  the 
young  lady  elects  to  marry  me,  I  must  meet 
my  fate  like  a  man — and  surely  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  a  more  entertaining  life  com- 
panion. So  hurrah  for  the  blooming  West  ! 
Three  cheers  for  Tom  Nelson  !  Jerroray  for- 
ever !  "  And  in  excellent  humor  with  him- 
self and  the  world  about  him,  Mr.  Norrie 
proceeded  to  enter  into  the  festivities  of  the 
evening  with  a  zest  which  made  him  an  im- 


lo8       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

mediate  favorite  with  all  the  young  women, 
and  an  object  of  envy  and  admiration  with 
most  of  the  young  men.  The  gaudy,  gilded 
lodge-room,  the  queer  customs  of  the  socie- 
ty in  which  he  found  himself,  the  peculiar 
notions  of  dress  and  manners,  were  all 
sources  of  pleasure  to  our  hero,  and  his  de- 
light was  crowned  by  the  evident  partiality 
evinced  towards  him  increasingly,  as  the 
night  wore  on,  by  the  blooming  Geraldine. 


CHAPTER   VII 

A  QUIET   LITTLE   GAME 

As  Tom  came  into  the  bar-room  the  next 
morning  after  breakfast,  Mr.  Dicker  and  his 
allies  of  the  foregoing  evening  responded  but 
coldly  to  his  greetings.  A  young  man,  tall 
and  slight,  somewhat  of  Tom's  own  build, 
was  leaning  on  the  bar  and  turning  over  the 
leaves  of  the  hotel  register,  and  as  Tom  said 
good  -  morning  to  Mr.  Dicker  this  young 
man  looked  up  quickly,  and  regarded  our 
hero  with  a  pair  of  very  keen,  dark  eyes, 
during  the  colloquy  that  followed. 

Tom  began  by  offering  Mr.  Dicker  a  ci- 
gar, with  an  urbanity  that  slightly  thawed 
that  gentleman's  chilly  demeanor. 

"  I  say,  Dicker,  what  time  does  the  morn- 
ing train  go  to — to  Bloomer  ?  ' ' 

"Ten  o'clock,"  replied  Mr.  Dicker. 
"Are  you  a-goin'  to  Bloomer?"  he  then 
inquired,  with  a  touch  of  suspicion  in  his 
voice. 


no        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  I  am  contemplating  that  trip,"  was 
Tom's  reply. 

"  Thought  you  might  prefer  stoppin'  off 
at  Aurory,"  remarked  the  hotel  clerk,  sar- 
castically, with  a  wink  at  the  gallery  behind 
Tom. 

Tom  looked  perfectly  innocent.  "  Is 
Aurora  much  of  a  place  —  worth  stopping 
at?  "  he  asked. 

"  Depends  on  whether  you're  interested 
in  its  products,"  and  Mr.  Dicker  laughed  in 
a  suggestive  manner. 

"Seems  to  produce  very  pretty  girls," 
said  Tom,  coolly.  "What  else?  Is  there 
a  good  hotel — as  good  as  this  ?  ' ' 

"The  Empire  Hotel  is  the  best  this  side 
of  Bloomer,"  declared  Mr.  Dicker,  proudly. 
"But  the  Palace  down  at  Aurory  is  fair. 
Proprietor's  a  chump;  he's  his  own  clerk 
and  general  manager,  and  don't  even  know 
how  to  dress — but  the  house  is  decent." 

"  I  say,  Dicker,  you've  got  so  much  taste 
in  dress,  why  don't  you  publish  a  bulletin 
to  give  points  to  us  fellers  that's  less  gifted  ? 
'  Bud's  Monthly  Blossom  '  you  could  call  it, 
with  your  own  portrait  in  your  newest  cos- 
tume on  the  front  page  of  every  issue.  I've 
knocked  about  a  good  deal,  but  I  nevef  saw 


A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME  ill 

a  man  dressed  the  way  you  were  last  night. 
Hope  you  don't  mind  being  copied,  for 
I  propose  to  go  and  get  some  togs  like 
'em." 

This  was  delivered  so  coolly  and  naturally 
that  Mr.  Dicker  could  not  suspect  that  game 
was  being  made  of  him.  He  fell  neatly  into 
the  trap  of  flattery,  and  expatiated  on  his 
views  of  dress,  to  the  evident  pleasure  of  the 
other  young  man  as  well  as  of  Tom  Norrie. 

' '  Let  me  make  you  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Potts,  Mr.  Chance,"  said  the  hotel  clerk,  as 
Mr.  Potts  evinced  a  desire  to  enter  into  the 
conversation.  He  coughed  and  cleared  his 
throat,  and  his  voice,  when  he  did  speak, 
was  very  hoarse  and  thick. 

"  Jack  Potts,  representing  the  firm  of 
Finkstein,  Moses  &  Levi,  leading  wholesale 
jewellers,  of  Chicago,  at  your  service,"  he 
said  in  a  tone  which,  in  spite  of  the  unat- 
tractive voice,  suggested  somehow  to  Tom 
that  all  life  was  a  good  joke,  and  prepos- 
sessed him  at  once  in  Mr.  Potts's  favor. 

"  And  a  very  popular  gent  wherever  he 
goes,"  supplemented  Mr.  Dicker. 

"Jack-pots  generally  are  popular,"  re- 
joined Mr.  Potts,  easily. 

Tom,  on  further  scrutiny,  was  thoroughly 


112        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

pleased  with  the  looks  of  his  new  acquaint- 
ance, and  laughed  cordially  at  this  witti- 
cism as  he  shook  hands  with  him.  But  just 
at  that  moment,  hearing  a  rustle  of  skirts  in 
the  hall  beyond,  and  catching  a  glimpse  of 
Jerroray  on  her  way  to  the  dining-room,  he 
begged  to  be  excused  and  hurried  after  her, 
followed  by  many  malevolent  glances. 

"Who  is  he?"  inquired  Jack  Potts  at 
once,  in  a  confidential  undertone,  with  a 
look  of  the  deepest  interest  on  his  keen  and 
clever  face. 

"  No  good,"  rejoined  the  sapient  Mr. 
Dicker.  "  Turned  up  here  last  night — never 
saw  him  before." 

"  What  time  last  night  ?  " 

"  Nine  o'clock  or  so." 

"Where  from?" 

"  Said  he  came  up  on  the  Red  Gulch 
Road.  Didn't  say  where  from.  Not  a  com- 
municative gent." 

Jack  Potts  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Per- 
haps he  has  good  reason." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mr. 
Dicker,  eagerly. 

"  Oh,  nothin'.  He  seems  a  good  fellow 
'nough — but  somehow — well — he  struck  me 
as  a  bit  shady.  Can't  think  who  he  reminds 


A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME  113 

me  of,"  went  on  Mr.  Potts,  in  a  puzzled  tone. 
"  Where'd  he  register  from  ?  " 

"Some  backwoods  place  in  Nebraska," 
said  Mr.  Dicker.  "  Say,  you  seem  to  be 
catchin'  cold  ?  ' ' 

Jack  Potts,  without  answering,  but  sup- 
pressing a  cough,  turned  to  the  name  in  the 
register.  "  '  J.  Chance,'  "  he  said.  "  '  Burr 
Oak,  Nebraska.'  He's  no  more  from  Ne- 
braska than  I  am.  He's  an  Easterner. 
'Chance,' — that's  a  queer  name. — Who'd 
he  go  out  to  see  just  now  ?  "  he  questioned, 
suddenly. 

"  Jerry  Roray,  a  silly  little  flirt  up  from 
Aurory,  that  he  met  at  the  ball  last  night. ' ' 

"  Oh,  he  went  to  the  ball  ?  " 

"  I  was  fool  enough  to  take  him,"  said 
Mr.  Dicker.  "  He'n  this  girl  got  stuck  on 
each  other  right  off.  Stunnin'  lookin'  girl — 
dressed  way  up — but  an  awful  fool.  Lost 
her  diamonds  an'  things  on  the  train  up 
here  last  night,  but  took  just  as  much  pride 
in  Tom  Nelson  as  if  she  was  his  best  girl. 
An'  this  little  Chance  he  sailed  in  and  piled 
up  the  gush  on  Tom  Nelson,  and  so  she 
thinks  he's  as  brave  as  a  lion,  and  every 
other  man  a  coward,  and  dances  with  him 
most  all  night.  He  had  on  just  them  same 
8 


H4       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

clothes  he's  wearin'  this  mornin',  too;  you 
wouldn't  suppose  a  girl'd  look  at  him,  but 
he's  cute,  he  is,"  said  Mr.  Dicker,  bit- 
terly. 

"Gushed  about  Tom  Nelson,  did  he?  " 
queried  Jack  Potts.  "  What  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  Oh,  a  lot  of  rot ;  asked  all  sorts  of  ques- 
tions about  him ;  let  on  he'd  never  even  heard 
of  these  train  robbers ;  said  Nelson  must  be 
a  smart  cuss,  an'  he  wouldn't  mind  bein'  a 
train  robber  himself  if  it  weren't  for  the 
thievin'.  That's  what  took  Jerry  Roray. 
She  thought  he  must  be  awful  brave  to  talk 
like  that.  Bet  you  if  Mr.  Chance  ever  met 
Tom  Nelson  he'd  cut  an'  run  for  his  life." 

"You  don't  like  him?" 

"  He  talks  too  much  to  suit  me.  Lays  it 
on  too  thick,"  explained  Mr.  Dicker. 

"  Wish  I  could  remember  who  he  reminds 
me  of,"  said  Jack  Potts  again.  "Or  else 
I've  seen  him  before  somewheres.  I  have 
it — it's  his  voice  !  He  talks  for  all  the  world 
like  Tom  Nelson  himself!  " 

"You  don't  say  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Dicker. 
"  You  was  in  that  first  hold  up,  warn'tyou? 
Come  here  that  night  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,"  said  Jack  Potts.  "Of  course 
Nelson  was  masked.  He  was  a  tall,  slight 


A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME  115 

feller — pretty  much  the  same  figure  as  this 
Chance  of  Nebraska.  I  noticed  his  voice 
particularly,  for  I  saw  that  was  about  all  he 

could  be  identified  by,  and  I'll  be  d d 

if  this  feller  don't  talk  just  like  him.  Say, 
ifhe'sgoin'  down  to  Aurora,  guess  I'll  go 
on  the  same  train  and  keep  an  eye  on  him. 
He  strikes  me  as  rather  interestin'.  I'll  just 
hustle  out  and  finish  up  my  business  here  in 
a  hurry. ' ' 

Whereupon  Mr.  Potts  went  out  on  the 
street  at  once  in  haste,  leaving  Mr.  Dicker 
agog  with  unjust  suspicions,  in  regard  to  our 
hero.  Nor  was  he  slow  in  sharing  them 
with  Mr.  Shore,  Mr.  Bedloe,  and  other  ag- 
grieved parties  of  the  night  before,  whose 
curiosity  had  been  greatly  roused  by  the  bits 
they  had  caught  of  Mr.  Potts's  discreet  con- 
versation. 

So  when  Tom,  escorting  Miss  Roray,  took 
the  ten  o'clock  train  down  from  Bud,  he 
was,  as  the  dime  novels  would  put  it,  a 
marked  man,  though  he,  in  his  innocence, 
thought  the  unkind  glances  directed  at  him 
were  all  to  be  charged  to  Jerroray's  account. 
But  he  found  himself  so  fascinated  by  that 
young  lady's  genial  frankness  of  demeanor, 
and  so  content  in  her  society,  that  these  un- 


n6       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

pleasant  signs  and  portents  had  no  deterrent 
effect  upon  him.  He  would  have  monop- 
olized her  all  the  way  to  Aurora  had  she 
permitted,  and  she  might  have  permitted 
but  for  some  occurrences  not  planned  for  or 
expected. 

Miss  Roray's  appetite  was  excellent,  and 
she  had  lingered  so  long  over  the  breakfast 
table  with  Tom  chatting  beside  her  that  they 
nearly  missed  the  train.  When  they  en- 
tered it  all  the  seats  upon  the  shady  side 
were  taken.  Tom  nodded  to  Mr.  Jack 
Potts  as  he  passed  him,  occupying  alone  one 
of  these  more  desirable  seats,  and  then  placed 
his  fair  companion  in  the  full  sunshine  a  lit- 
tle back  on  the  opposite  side.  Mr.  Shore, 
Mr.  Bedloe,  and  other  well  known  gentle- 
men from  Aurora,  some  accompanied  by 
their  ladies,  and  some  alone,  glowered  at 
them,  each  from  his  own  separate  shady 
seat,  up  and  down  the  car,  but  offered  not 
to  rise. 

" Polite,  ain't  they?"  observed  Jerroray, 
awdibly.  "I  do  admire  their  manners  ! 

Who  was  that  gent  you  bowed  to 

comin'  in  ?  "  she  asked  the  next  moment, 
in  a  lower  tone. 

"A  drummer  I  met  at  the  hotel,"  said 


A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME  117 

Tom.  "  In  the  jewelry  business.  Jack 
Potts  by  name." 

"Jolly  name — sounds  as  gamy  as  he 
looks." 

"  I  thought  his  way  of  looking  at  you  a 
little  too  gamy." 

"He  did  give  me  a  pretty  steady  eye," 
replied  Jerroray,  complacently,  ' '  but  a  girl 
don't  mind  that — so  long  as  there's  nothin' 
disrespec'ful  in  it.  If  a  man  don't  know 
her  it's  his  way  of  sayin'  he  likes  her  looks, 
an'  every  girl  likes  her  looks  liked." 

"You're  all  sad  flirts,  in  other  words," 
observed  Tom,  "  and  the  prettier  you  are 
the  worse  flirts.  I'm  afraid  the  lucky  dog 
that  gets  your  diamonds  for  you  will  enter 
that  day  upon  a  troublous  life." 

"  Well,  if  you  ain't  afraid  of  Tom  Nelson 
guess  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  me,"  laughed 
Miss  Roray,  good-humoredly.  At  the  men- 
tion of  Tom  Nelson's  name  Jack  Potts  start- 
ed and  turned  quickly,  looking  in  their  di- 
rection. Now  he  at  once  rose  and  approached 
Tom,  lifting  his  hat,  with  a  pleasant  smile. 

"  Wouldn't  you  be  able  to  make  your 
lady -friend  more  comfortable  on  the  shady 
side  of  the  car?"  he  inquired.  "You're 
welcome  to  my  seat." 


n8        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Potts,"  said  Tom,  turn- 
ing to  Miss  Roray,  to  see  how  she  looked 
upon  the  offer. 

"That's  what  I  call  polite,"  remarked 
that  fair  lady  -  friend,  emphatically,  rising 
to  make  the  transit,  and  suggesting  to  Tom 
that  he  should  introduce  the  gent. 

Tom  did  so,  and  Jerroray  and  Mr.  Potts 
shook  hands  with  each  other  before  she 
passed  on  into  his  seat  and  settled  herself 
there  with  great  airs  of  satisfaction.  "  You 
killed  two  birds  with  one  stone  that  time, 
Mr.  Potts,"  she  remarked,  in  a  friendly  tone. 

"  How  so?"  he  queried,  following  them 
as  she  had  intended. 

"  You  made  me  your  grateful  friend  for- 
ever, and  you  set  a  good  example  to  all 
these  country -jakes,  that  don't  know  how 
to  treat  a  lady."  This  remark  was  plainly 
audible  to  most  occupants  of  the  car,  and  so 
was  Mr.  Potts' s  ingenious  and  tactful  reply. 

' '  Ah  !  you  must  not  judge  us  too  harshly. 
Any  gentleman  here  would  doubtless  have 
given  you  his  seat,  but  to  give  it  to  you  and 
another  gentleman — really,  Miss  Roray,  isn't 
that  a  little  too  much?  " 

"But  you  did  it." 

"  I  only  saw  you  first  five  minutes  since. 


A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME  119 

If  it  had  been  ten  minutes  I  can't  answer 
for  what  I  might  have  done,"  and  Mr. 
Potts  bowed  gallantly.  "Besides,  you  for- 
get the  other  bird  I  killed.  I  secured  an 
introduction  to  you  by  my  wholly  disinter- 
ested act." 

' '  You  drummers  have  got  more  face !  ' ' 
declared  Miss  Roray,  with  her  little  pleased 
laugh.  "  But  you  do  know  how  to  say 
things  awful  cute.  You're  a  drummer,  too, 
ain't  you,  Chance?"  she  asked,  drawing 
Tom  back  into  the  conversation  from  which 
he  had  felt  a  trifle  left  out. 

"  Does  that  imply  that  I,  too,  say  things 
awful  cute?"  asked  Tom,  amused  at  her 
cleverness,  but  flattered  in  spite  of  himself. 

"You've  a  pretty  neat  turn  to  your 
tongue,  I've  noticed,  which  always  reminds 
me  of  the  travellin'  perfession.  These  stay- 
at-homes  down  at  Aurory,  like  Charley 
Shore  for  instance,  may  mean  more'n  you 
fellers  do — but  they  can't  say  it.  They  can 
feel  an  awful  lot,  but  stayin'  at  home  don't 
make  'em  think  very  quick,  somehow,"  and 
the  young  lady  smiled  pleasantly  at  both 
young  men,  as  she  uttered  this  Shakespearean 
truth  to  wits  that  were  certainly  not  home- 
keeping. 


120       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  I  always  mean  a  good  deal  more  than  I 
say,"  declared  Mr.  Chance,  of  Nebraska, 
gazing  eloquently  into  Miss  Roray's  eyes. 

"And  I  say  what  I  mean,  at  least,"  put 
in  Jack  Potts,  quickly,  "  and  answer  ques- 
tions, too,  when  they're  asked  me  by  beau- 
tiful and  discernin'  young  ladies." 

Jerroray  laughed.  "If  that's  a  hit  at 
Chance  it  won't  have  any  effect  on  him," 
she  said.  "I've  asked  him  lots  of  questions, 
but  he's  got  out  of  'em  all.  He  don't  in- 
tend to  give  himself  away  !  ' ' 

"Prince  in  disguise,  eh?"  asked  Jack 
Potts,  genially. 

"  That  must  be  it !  "  she  cried,  delighted. 

"  Wish  I  could  think  who  you  remind  me 
of,"  said  the  drummer  to  Tom;  "or  else 
I've  seen  you  before  somewhere. ' ' 

"  Say,  that's  exactly  what  I  feel  about 
him,"  cried  Miss  Roray.  "  Ain't  that  funny 
now  ?  It  runs  in  my  head  all  the  time,  but 
I  can't  get  hold  of  it." 

"  I  seem  to  be  a  mysterious  character," 
observed  Tom.  "  I  can  assure  you,  how- 
ever, that  I've  not  seen  either  of  you  before. 
Do  you  imagine  I  could  forget  it  if  I'd  ever 
put  my  eyes  on  you  ?  "  he  asked  Miss  Ro- 
ray, impressively. 


A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME  121 

"  I  say,"  said  Mr.  Potts,  "  it's  your  voice. 
Ain't  that  it,  Miss  Roray?" 

"  Perhaps  it  is,"  she  replied,  in  a  puzzled 
tone.  "  But  I  can't  think  who  it's  like." 

"  I  can,"  declared  Jack  Potts,  in  a  tone 
so  significant  that  they  both  quickly  looked 
at  him.  "  His  voice  is  like  one  that  I've 
heard  only  once — you've  heard  it,  too,  Miss 
Roray,  but  you  didn't  see  the  man's  face — 
it  came  from  behind  a  black  mask." 

Jerroray  emitted  a  round  whistle  of  as- 
tonishment. "By  George,  that's  so!" 
she  cried.  "  Your  voice  is  just  like  Tom 
Nelson's  ?  That's  what  made  me  like  you 
so  much,"  she  exclaimed,  triumphantly.  "  I 
told  you  you  reminded  me  of  somebody 
nice,  and  it's  that  polite  Mr.  Nelson  all  the 
time." 

"That's  queer,"  said  Tom.  "What  is 
there  about  my  voice  ?  ' ' 

"  It's  sort  of  deep — and  clear — and — and 
— gentlemanly,"  explained  Jerroray. 

"And  you  both  pronounce  your  words 
different  from  us  Westerners,"  said  Jack 
Potts,  in  his  hoarse,  thick  tones.  "More 
like  Easterners — but  you're  a  Nebraskan, 
ain't  you,  too?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Tom. 


122        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  JJFE 

"Native?"  queried  Jack  Potts,  almost 
quizzically. 

"Yes,"  said  Tom. 

"  Well,  now,  he's  answered  one  question, 
anyhow,"  exclaimed  Miss  Roray.  "  May- 
be we  can  get  his  whole  history  if  we  keep 
on  drawin'  him  out  ten  or  a  dozen  years. 
Pretty  slow  fishin',  though." 

"  Well,"  said  Tom,  somewhat  embarrassed 
by  the  personal  turn  the  talk  had  taken  and 
the  inconvenient  definiteness  of  the  fibs  it 
had  led  him  into.  "  I'm  happy  to  resemble 
Mr.  Tom  Nelson  in  any  particular.  He's  a 
plucky  fellow,  and  has  my  sincere  admira- 
tion." 

"  I  like  him,  too,"  admitted  Jack  Potts. 
"  If  I  run  across  him  anywheres  I'm  not 
goin'  to  give  him  away.  He  stuck  me  for 
thirty  dollars,  but  I  charged  it  to  the  firm, 
and  didn't  bear  him  any  malice,  for  he  did 
it  like  a  gentleman." 

"Was  you  held  up  too?"  inquired  Jer- 
roray,  eagerly.  "  Which  time  ?  " 

"First,"  replied  Mr.  Potts. 

"  Was  you  scared  much?  " 

"Well,  no,"  and  Mr.  Potts  smiled  as  if 
in  pleasant  reminiscence  of  his  courage. 

"  Not  ?     What  did  you  do  then  ?  " 


A  QUIET   LITTLE  GAME  123 

"Unfortunately  I  wasn't  armed;  but 
though  I've  carried  a  revolver  ever  si  nee  I've 
not  had  the  luck  to  fall  in  with  Mr.  Nelson 
again — not  when  he  was  on  the  warpath, 
that  is  " — this  with  a  quick  look  at  Tom, 
intercepted  by  Miss  Roray,  who  also  glanced 
sharply,  but  with  a  puzzled  expression  at  the 
innocent  countenance  of  Mr.  Chance,  of 
Nebraska. 

"  But  what  would  you  do  if  you  did  fall 
in  with  him?  "  she  pursued,  after  a  moment. 

"I'd  hold  him  up." 

"How?" 

"  That's  a  little  private  scheme  of  my  own. 
I  don't  want  to  give  it  away  and  have  some 
other  feller  get  the  glory  of  it.  Besides,  you 
might  one  of  you  go  and  tell  Tom  Nelson, 
and  then  he'd  be  on  his  guard,"  and  Jack 
Potts  gave  Mr.  Chance  another  suggestive 
look,  which  was  again  noticed  by  the  young 
lady. 

"You  know  it  would  really  be  an  easy 
thing  to  hold  him  up,"  said  Tom,  oblivious 
to  these  signs. 

"That's  what  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Potts. 

"  Nerve  and  quickness,  and  your  blinds 
closed  so  the  men  outside  couldn't  pop  you 
off." 


124       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

Jack  Potts's  face  fell  and  he  looked  grave 
for  a  moment. 

"  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  keep  my  blinds 
down  altogether  on  night  trains  now,"  went 
on  Tom,  "and  to  sit  pretty  well  front  in  the 
car.  Then  when  Nelson  is  two-thirds  of  the 
way  down  just  pop  off  the  man  at  the  top 
end  and  draw  on  him,  and  by  that  time 
there'd  be  half  a  dozen  revolvers  out." 

"My!"  exclaimed  Jerroray.  "Would 
you  really  dare  ?  ' ' 

"He  might  dare,"  said  Mr.  Potts,  with 
sarcasm,  "  but  doin'  it's  a  different  matter. 
Mr.  Chance  seems  to  have  ideas  on  the  sub- 
ject, however,"  he  went  on.  "  He's  evi- 
dently been  there." 

"  Been  there !  ' '  said  Tom.  "  I  was  never 
held  up  in  my  life." 

"  And  never  held  anybody  up  either?" 
queried  Jack  Potts,  in  the  same  half-jocose, 
half-suggestive  manner  as  before. 

"Held  anybody  up?"  said  Tom,  puz- 
zled. "  Why,  of  course  not.  But  you 
know,  I  think  it  would  be  mighty  good  fun," 
he  added.  "  Miss  Roray  and  I  quite  agree 
about  it.  She  wouldn't  mind  being  an  out- 
law one  bit,  she  says,  so  I'm  going  to  try  to 
persuade  her  to  go  on  the  road  with  me. ' ' 


A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME  125 

"  You'd  be  a  pretty  successful  team,  I 
imagine,"  said  Jack  Potts,  again  in  the 
suggestive  tone,  with  a  smile  at  Miss 
Roray. 

That  young  woman,  with  a  more  than 
ever  puzzled  expression,  started  as  if  to 
blurt  out  some  question,  but  Mr.  Potts's  fin- 
ger on  his  lips  stopped  her  with  the  words 
at  the  end  of  her  tongue.  Tom,  sitting  be- 
tween the  two,  and  with  Jack  Potts  bending 
over  him,  did  not  notice  this  interchange  of 
understanding,  and  Miss  Roray  quickly  re- 
covered herself. 

"  Chance  hasn't  ever  asked  me  to  drive 
double  with  him,  yet,"  she  said,  with  that 
frank  and  artless  coquetry  that  Tom  found 
so  beguiling. 

"Oh,  I  don't  dare,  of  course  —  till  I 
bring  you  the  diamonds,"  he  declared. 

"What's  that?"  questioned  Mr.  Potts, 
with  quick  curiosity.  Jerroray  started  to 
reply,  but  Tom  stopped  her. 

"  Don't  tell  him,"  he  begged.  "  Don't 
tell  anybody.  I  want  the  chance  all  to  my- 
self." 

"But  that  ain't  fair  to  me,"  said  the 
young  lady.  "  I  want  more  Chances  than 
one,  you  see." 


126        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  When  that  one  is  devoted  to  you,  heart 
and  soul?"  questioned  Tom,  impressively. 

"  Come,  now — you're  just  gassing — you 
don't  mean  that,"  giggled  the  young  lady. 

"  If  there  are  any  chances  going,  do  give 
me  one,"  put  in  Mr.  Potts. 

"  Now  I  think  that's  only  fair,"  said 
Jerroray.  "I'll  tell  you,  Potts,' I've  been 
engaged  to  Charley  Shore,  an  Aurory  feller, 
for  two  months,  but  it  sort  o'  sickened  me 
the  way  he  behaved  in  the  train  robbery  last 
night,  so  I  says  to  Chance,  says  I,  '  Char- 
ley'11  get  the  mitten  to-morrer,'  says  I. 
'  Poor  Mr.  Shore,'  says  he,  '  but  the  world's 
the  gainer  ' — meanin',  as  he  explained,  that 
it  gave  other  fellers,  includin'  himself,  a 
chance.  So  I  says,  says  I,  '  If  it's  chances 
you're  talkin'  about,  the  feller  that  brings 
me  back  my  diamonds  will  have  it  all,'  says 
I — and  that's  the  chance  Chance  wants  all 
to  himself,  but  which,  it  seems  to  me,  ain't 
fair  to  me.  Now  what  do  you  think, 
Potts?" 

"I  think  Mr.  Chance  is  awfly  selfish, 
though  I  can't  exactly  blame  him  for  it,  for 
I'm  sure  in  his  place  I'd  have  done  the  same 
thing.  And  I'd  suggest,  Miss  Roray,  that 
you  don't  tell  any  one  else — leave  it  as  a 


A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME  127 

duel,  so  to  speak,  between  Chance  and  my- 
self." 

"  Now  you're  as  bad  as  he  is.  I  sha'n't 
do  that  at  all.  I  shall  tell  everybody,  even 
poor  little  Charley  Shore — and  those  what 
wants  the  opportunity  can  take  it. ' ' 

"  And  I  admire  your  spirit,"  bowed  Jack 
Potts,  "  and  I'm  not  sorry,  after  all,  that 
it's  to  be  an  open  competition.  And  though 
Mr.  Chance  may  have  means  of  securing 
your  jewels  that  are  unknown  to  me,  still  I'll 
wager  even  that  I'm  the  man  that  does  it." 

"I  take  you,"  said  Tom,  "  and  suggest 
that  Miss  Roray  hold  the  stakes,  and  buy 
herself,  in  either  event,  a  wedding-present 
with  them." 

Miss  Roray  promptly  declared  that  she 
gave  no  promises,  and  there  mightn't  be  any 
wedding — it  was  only  a  chance.  But  the 
young  men  protested  themselves  satisfied 
with  these  terms,  and  the  money  agreed  on 
was  accordingly  placed  in  her  hands.  In 
the  process  of  the  transaction  Tom  emptied 
his  pockets,  and  his  handkerchief,  unnoticed 
by  him,  fell  to  the  floor  and  was  picked  up 
by  Mr.  Potts.  An  eager  smile  flitted  across 
that  gentleman's  countenance  as  he  examined 
the  initials  on  it. 


128        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  Whose  handkerchief  is  this  ?  "  he  asked, 
in  an  indifferent  tone.  "Just  picked  it  up 
here. ' ' 

Tom  felt  in  his  empty  pocket.  "Must 
be  mine,"  he  said,  reaching  out  his  hand  for 
it. 

"They  ain't  your  initials,"  said  Mr. 
Potts,  dryly. 

Tom  looked  at  them  hastily.  "  So  they 
aren't,"  he  said,  confused.  "  Some  other 
fellow's  lost  it,  after  all." 

"  What  are  the  initials  ?  "  asked  Jerroray, 
noting  the  quiet  smile  on  Jack  Potts's  face. 

"  T.  N.,"  said  that  gentleman.  "  Do  you 
know  any  such  ?  ' ' 

"T.  N.!  Why,"  she  cried,  "those  are 
Tom  Nelson's  initials  !  " 

"Holy  Moses!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Potts. 
"You  don't  suppose  he's  anywheres  on  this 
train,  do  you?  Darin'  cuss  if  he  is  !  " 

The  people  immediately  about  them  were 
taken  into  confidence,  and  then  the  matter 
was  handed  on  to  all  the  occupants  of  the 
car,  but  no  one  was  found  possessing  the 
dangerous  initials  of  "T.  N."  The  fact 
that  the  handkerchief  was  discovered  close 
by  the  seat  occupied  by  Mr.  Chance,  of  Ne- 
braska, was  often  mentioned  by  Mr.  Potts, 


A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME  129 

but  quite  carelessly,  as  if  it  had  little  signifi- 
cance. He  also  mentioned,  with  equal  care- 
lessness, that  Mr.  Chance  had  lost  his  hand- 
kerchief, but  of  course  this  wasn't  his.  Tom, 
furious  at  his  own  heedlessness,  appeared 
confused  and  absent,  a  demeanor  which  was 
suspicious  both  in  the  eyes  of  his  enemies, 
and  in  those  of  the  friendly  Jerroray,  who 
tried  to  divert  him  while  the  search  was  in 
progress  with  her  observations  on  men  and 
life.  She  looked  at  him  with  a  renewed  in- 
terest in  her  eyes,  and  did  not  pay  much  at- 
tention to  Jack  Potts  when  that  young  man 
returned  from  his  search. 

"This  handkerchief  goes  a-beggin',"  he 
said,  "  which  ain't  strange,  considerin'  that 
the  fellow  who  claims  it  lays  himself  open  to 
bein'  hanged." 

"  You're  funny,"  said  Tom  Norrie,  con- 
temptuously. "  The  idea  of  a  train  robber 
having  embroidered  initials  on  his  handker- 
chief, anyway.  If  Tom  Nelson  carries  a 
handkerchief  at  all  it's  most  likely  a  red 
bandanna. ' ' 

"  There  are  train  robbers  and  train  rob- 
bers," declared  Jack  Potts,  sapiently. 

' '  And  drummers  and  drummers, ' '  retorted 
Tom,  with  a  sharp  look  at  him. 
9 


130       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

Jack  Potts  met  this  home-thrust  with  so 
quick  a  good-nature,  and  with  so  pleasant  a 
twinkle  in  his  eyes,  that  in  another  moment 
both  young  men  laughed,  and  when  Mr. 
Potts  held  out  his  hand  on  the  impulse  of 
the  moment,  Mr.  Chance  took  it  with  no 
lack  of  cordiality. 

"  There  are  plenty  of  people  on  this  train, 
however,  who  would  be  glad  to  view  your 
downfall,  Mr.  Chance,"  said  the  drummer, 
"  and  for  reasons  that  it  does  not  take  one 
long  to  guess  at" — here  he  smiled  at  Miss 
Roray.  "  I  should  advise  you  to  be  rather 
circumspect  as  you  walk  the  streets  of  Au- 
rora, and  give  or  take  no  cause  of  quarrel. 
Or  if  you  don't  like  that  advice,  at  least  have 
your  firearms  handy." 

''He's  comin'  up  to  see  me,"  remarked 
Jerroray,  in  a  motherly  manner.  "He'll 
be  safe  up  there.  I  ain't  anxious  to  quarrel 
with  him,"  and  she  bestowed  upon  Tom  a 
look  of  more  than  usual  sweetness. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BLUFF 

Innocence,  though  so  greatly  admired  by 
the  poets,  and  celebrated  in  many  yards  of 
verse,  is  at  times  highly  dangerous  to  its 
possessor.  Thus  Tom  Norrie,  having  a  heart 
free  of  guile,  and  fearing  no  man,  was  not 
on  the  watch,  and  did  not  perceive  more 
than  half  of  what  occurred  on  the  train  from 
Bud  to  Aurora.  The  curious  fact  that  his 
voice  resembled  that  of  the  outlaw,  and  that 
their  methods  of  pronunciation  were  similar, 
had  not  entered  his  head  as  a  cause  of  sus- 
picion against  him,  for  he  had  seen  none  of 
the  suggestive  glances  exchanged  by  the 
drummer  and  Miss  Roray  apropos  of  this 
subject.  The  handkerchief  incident  had 
come  near  being  unfortunate,  and  he  cursed 
his  own  carelessness  in  not  making  way  with 
such  proof  of  his  travelling  under  an  as- 
sumed name.  But,  luckily,  no  one  seemed 
to  connect  the  handkerchief  and  its  fatal 


132        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

initials  with  him,  and  he  had  heard  the 
friendly  Jack  Potts  state  particularly  to  their 
fellow-passengers,  as  he  made  his  inquiries 
of  them,  that  it  did  not  belong  to  Mr. 
Chance.  He  had  not  seen  the  slight  smile 
on  the  drummer's  face,  nor  the  glance  of 
meaning  which  had  in  some  instances  ac- 
companied this  statement,  nor  yet  the  re- 
turn glance  of  understanding  which  had  lit 
the  faces  of  certain  gentlemen  who  already 
stood  towards  him  in  the  attitude  of  enemies. 
So  he  felt  that  by  denying  his  property  be- 
fore it  was  fastened  on  him  irrevocably,  he 
had  just  managed  to  squeak  out  of  a  dis- 
agreeable contretemps,  and  he  gave  himself 
no  further  uneasiness  on  the  subject.  The 
attention  which  his  party  attracted  as  they 
alighted  from  the  train,  the  degree  to  which 
they  seemed  to  be  the  object  of  many  eyes, 
if  not  of  all,  in  the  station,  while  he  se- 
cured the  luggage  and  Jack  Potts  talked 
to  Jerroray,  he  ascribed  entirely  to  that 
young  lady's  superlative  good  looks.  As 
Mr.  Neddy  Bedloe  had  intimated  in  the 
office  of  the  Empire  Hotel  at  Bud,  she  was 
popular  with  her  townsmen,  and  fame  neces- 
sarily attached  to  those  who  formed  her 
suite. 


BLUFF  133 

While  Tom  was  awaiting  his  turn  with  the 
baggage-man  and  reflecting  thus  agreeably 
on  the  pleasure  of  paying  court  to  a  young 
woman  of  the  position  and  attractions  of 
his  fair  lady-friend,  the  lady-friend  herself 
was  improving  the  opportunity  to  ask  Mr. 
Potts  a  few  brief,  but  telling  questions. 

"  Was  that  Chance's  handkerchief?  " 

"  It  dropped  out  of  his  pocket." 

"  Did  you  actually  see  it  drop  out  of  his 
pocket?" 

"I  actually  did." 

"  Why  did  you  look  for  its  initials  before 
giving  it  back  to  him?  " 

"  Pure  curiosity,"  and  Jack  Potts  smiled 
genially. 

"  You  don't  think  it's  possible  that  he 
is" — she  stopped,  interrupted  by  the  look 
of  alarm  on  the  drummer's  face. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  don't  you  suggest 
such  a  thing,"  he  said,  quickly.  ''It's  as 
much  as  the  man's  life  is  worth  !  Here  are 
all  these  Aurora  gentlemen  ready  to  cut  his 
throat  for  the  favor  you've  shown  him.  It 
would  take  only  those  two  words  that  you 
just  didn't  say  to  cause  them  to  produce  the 
sheriff  and  the  whole  police  force  and  clap 
Mr.  Chance  into  jail  on  the  mere  suspicion. 


134       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

If  you  take  any  interest  in  that  young  man 
you'd  better  be  pretty  careful." 

"  I  take  an  interest  in  Tom  Nelson,"  de- 
clared Miss  Roray. 

"  Happy  man,  if  only  he  knew  it,"  mur- 
mured Mr.  Potts.  "  /  shall  never  tell 
him." 

"  Say,"  inquired  Miss  Roray,  suddenly, 
"what's  the  matter  with  your  voice?  It 
changes.  Most  of  the  time  it  sounds  sort  of 
hoarse,  as  if  you  had  a  cold  or  somethin'. 
But  just  then,  when  you  said  '  happy  man/ 
and  before,  when  you  said  '  my  dear  young 
lady,'  it  sounded  as  smooth  as — as " 

"  As  a  good  cocktail,"  suggested  Jack 
Potts,  with  a  smile.  "  It's  emotion  does  it, 
Miss  Roray — pure  emotion.  Love  changes 
a  man  from  a  roarin'  lion  to  a  suckin'  dove 
— so  why  shouldn't  it  alter  his  voice  from  a 
roar  to  a  coo  ?  ' ' 

Jerroray  tossed  her  head  consciously. 
"  Cuckoo  I  guess,"  she  remarked.  "And 
a  lot  of  love  there  is  about  it." 

"  Now  let  me  tell  you  somethin',"  said 
Jack  Potts,  seriously.  "  Love  is  catchin'. 
When  a  man  sees  half  a  dozen  other  men 
in  love  with  the  same  girl  it  makes  him  think 
she  must  be  a  pretty  nice  girl.  And  if  he's 


BLUFF  135 

the  kind  of  man  that  likes  to  get  what  other 
people  want,  and  leave  them  whistlin',  why 
it's  all  the  more  so.  Under  such  conditions, 
love  practically  at  first  sight  ain't  a  bit  im- 
possible. I  won't  say  more — for  various 
reasons  besides  the  fact  that  our  friend  Mr. 
Chance  is  approachin'  us — but  in  case  we 
shouldn't  meet  again  right  away  I  would  like 
to  ask  you  not  to  forget  me,  even  if  you  don't 
see  your  diamonds  so  soon  as  you've  a  right 
to  expect."  The  bold,  handsome  face  of 
Mr.  Potts  was  softened  to  so  genuine  a  ten- 
derness, and  he  spoke  these  last  words  so  im- 
pressively, that  Miss  Roray  was  thrilled  in 
spite  of  herself  as  she  met  his  eyes,  and  did 
not  resist  him  when  he  took  her  hand  for  a 
moment,  with  a  warmer  pressure  than  the 
length  of  their  acquaintance  might  seem  to 
justify.  The  hand  pressure  gave  her  another 
thrill,  and  thus  there  was  a  vivid  color  in 
her  cheeks,  and  she  looked  handsomer  than 
ever,  as  she  turned  to  meet  Mr.  Chance,  of 
Nebraska,  arriving  with  her  bag  in  one  hand 
and  his  own  in  the  other.  Tom  saw  these 
signs  of  the  times,  and  laughed  to  think  what 
a  flirt  she  was.  It  not  only  relieved  him 
from  any  sense  of  responsibility  about  the 
vigorous  flirtation  he  was  himself  carrying 


136       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

on  with  her,  but  lent  indeed  an  added  zest 
to  that  encounter. 

The  Roray  equipage,  a  dusty  buggy  drawn 
by  a  sorrel  pacing  mare,  was  in  waiting 
without  the  station,  in  charge  of  what  looked 
to  Tom  like  a  middle  -  aged  cowboy,  who 
might  have  seen  better  days — that  is,  his  cos- 
tume could  hardly  have  been  worse.  He  sat 
in  a  d£gag6  attitude,  with  one  foot  on  the 
dashboard  and  the  other  dangling  outside, 
peacefully  masticating  the  customary  quid. 
Jerroray  said  "  Hullo,  Ernest,"  to  him,  and 
he  replied  "Hullo,  Jerry,"  to  her  without 
in  the  least  deranging  himself,  or  offering  to 
assist  her  in.  The  two  young  men  were  only 
too  ready  to  perform  this  service  for  her, 
and  when  it  was  accomplished  she  refused 
any  further  attendance. 

"  It's  dinner-time,  and  you'd  only  be  in 
the  way,"  she  explained,  pleasantly.  "  Ter- 
ence would  think  I  was  crazy  if  I  turned  up 
with  two  strange  gents  in  tow.  I'll  go 
ahead  and  explain  things  to  him  and  then 
you  can  come  along  up  in  the  afternoon. 
Say,  we'll  have  afternoon  tea  !  Dad  brought 
me  the  whole  outfit  last  time  he  went  to 
Bloomer,  and  I've  never  used  it  yet.  Come 
early  and  stay  late,"  she  called  out  as  the 


BLUFF  137 

man  drove  her  off.  Before  they  turned  the 
corner  she  had  taken  the  reins  in  her  own 
hands  and  was  conversing  affably  with  her 
stolid  attendant. 

"A  most  extraordinary  young  woman," 
observed  Tom  to  Jack  Potts,  quite  as  if  that 
gentleman  shared  his  own  point  of  view  in 
regard  to  the  peculiarities  of  the  West.  He 
perceived  this  incongruity  himself  before 
Mr.  Potts  had  time  to  reply,  and  turned  and 
looked  at  him  quickly,  wondering  what  he 
would  say. 

Jack  Potts  was  smiling,  as  in  fact  he  had 
been  doing  most  of  the  time  since  he  met 
him,  thought  Tom.  "  I  suppose  they  don't 
grow  like  that  in  Nebraska?  "  he  inquired. 

"  We  have  them  of  all  kinds  in  Nebraska," 
returned  Tom  with  as  much  nonchalance  as 
he  could  muster,  ' '  but  Jerroray  strikes  me  as 
an  original,  viewed  in  the  light  of  any  civ- 
ilization— even  Nebraskan.  At  all  events, 
she's  the  best-looking  girl  I've  come  across, 
and  her  manners  strike  me  as  equally  unique 
and  pleasing." 

"I'm  a  good  deal  taken  with  her  myself," 
observed  the  drummer.  "  But  it  looks  as  if 
Tom  Nelson  had  got  the  refusal  of  that  par- 
ticular peach." 


138       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  Not  if  some  other  gentleman  matches 
Mr.  Nelson's  valor — it's  what  he  does  she 
likes — not  himself." 

"  Now,  look  here,  Chance,  do  you  really 
think  you  or  any  other  feller  could  get  those 
diamonds  away  from  Nelson?"  inquired 
Jack  Potts. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Tom,  with  can- 
dor, "but  it  wouldn't  be  bad  fun  to  try, 
for  if  there's  a  man  I  should  like  to  meet  it's 
that  one." 

"  Well,  now,  why,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  " 

"Because  he  strikes  me  as  uncommonly 
clever  and  uncommonly  interesting — a  man, 
as  one  might  say,  out  often  thousand." 

"  And  you  ain't  afraid  of  him  ?  "  queried 
Jack  Potts,  with  his  customary  quizzical  smile. 

"No,"  said  Tom.  "  I  ain't,  although 
you  seem  to  think  that's  mere  talk.  But 
my  idea  of  Tom  Nelson  is  that  he's  a  good 
fellow.  It  seems  odd,  perhaps,  to  regard  a 
highway  robber  in  that  light,  but  all  that  I 
hear  of  him  confirms  me  in  it.  In  short,  I 
can't  help  feeling  that  to  me  just  at  present 
a  week  with  Tom  Nelson  would  be  worth  a 
cycle  of  Cathay." 

"A  Nebraskan  who  quotes  Tennyson," 
observed  Mr.  Potts,  derisively. 


BLUFF  139 

"  And  a  Chicago  drummer  who  recog- 
nizes it,"  retorted  Tom  Norrie. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Potts,  "though  I've 
fallen  somewhat  from  my  high  estate,  I  don't 
mind  admitting  that  I  was  once  at  Harvard 
College." 

"  So  was  I,"  admitted  Tom,  with  a  grin. 

"  All  the  way  from  Nebraska?  " 

' '  All  the  way  from  Nebraska, ' '  said  Tom, 
unblushingly.  "  What  was  your  class  ?  " 

"  We  shall  have  to  defer  our  college  rem- 
iniscences, I  fear,"  said  Mr.  Potts,  with  a 
smile,  "  for  here  we  are  at  the  Palace  Hotel. 
But  your  being  a  Harvard  man  was  no  news 
to  me,"  he  added,  as  they  walked  into  the 
hotel  office  and  bar-room. 

"What  do  you  mean?  How  did  you 
know  it  ?  "  inquired  Tom,  with  quick  curi- 
osity. 

But  Jack  Potts  was  already  engaged ,  in 
conversation  with  the  hotel  clerk  and  pro- 
prietor in  one,  who  seemed,  like  Mr.  Dicker, 
to  be  an  old  friend  of  his,  and  Tom  received 
no  answer  to  his  question.  After  a  few  mo- 
ments he  introduced  Tom  to  this  gentle- 
man, whom  Tom  had  been  regarding  with 
interest  as  representing  Mr.  Dicker's  idea  of 
a  chump.  He  was  a  short,  stout  young  man, 


140        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

with  a  large,  round,  clean-looking  face  which 
was  embellished  with  two  very  red  lips, 
two  very  pink  cheeks,  a  small  curling  blond 
mustache  and  a  dimpled  chin.  This  bright- 
colored  countenance  was  saved  from  mere 
pink-and-white  effeminacy  by  a  pair  of 
small  but  unusually  sharp  blue  eyes,  which 
had  the  appearance  of  taking  in  everything 
at  a  glance.  Thus  while  Tom  was  taking 
him  in  and  regarding  the  careless  grace  of 
the  undeniably  neglige  costume  which  had 
called  forth  the  scorn  of  the  elegant  Mr. 
Dicker,  he  too  was  not  idle,  and  Tom  im- 
agined that  he  could  have  given  a  complete 
inventory  of  his  own  attire  and  visible  be- 
longings after  the  two  or  three  good-humored 
but  keen  glances  that  he  had  flashed  toward 
our  hero.  His  name  was  Keach — J.  Cutler 
Keach — and  he  appeared  to  possess  those 
qualities  of  popularity  which  were  wanting 
in  the  self-centred  Mr.  Dicker.  He  assigned 
rooms  to  Mr.  Chance  and  Mr.  Potts  and 
went  himself  to  show  them  the  way,  but 
with  true  appreciation  of  his  own  dignity 
allowed  Tom  to  carry  his  grip  unchallenged 
— Mr.  Potts  being  burdened  only  with  a 
light  bag  slung  over  his  shoulder.  They 
were  met  in  the  hall  by  a  fifteen-year-old 


BLUFF  141 

fac -simile  of  Mr.  Keach,  who  began  ringing 
an  enormous  gong,  much  to  the  distress  of 
their  ears.  Tom  laughed  at  the  ludicrous 
resemblance  of  the  two,  and  though  he 
formed  the  tail  of  the  procession  this  mirth 
did  not  escape  the  eagle  eye  of  his  host. 

"Younger  brother,"  he  observed,  laconi- 
cally on  the  stairs,  in  a  glad  interval  of  the 
gong-ringing. 

"  T.  Corson  Keach,"  supplemented  Jack 
Potts  for  Tom's  further  information. 

Tom  gazed  with  delight  upon  the  spotless- 
ness  of  his  small  apartment  and  of  every- 
thing in  it,  then  opened  the  tough-looking 
extension  bag  for  which  he  had  traded  his 
own  neat  Gladstone  in  Kansas  City,  and 
secured  for  himself  a  fresh  handkerchief  to 
replace  the  one  now  in  the  possession  of  Mr. 
Potts.  Before  he  put  it  in  his  pocket,  how- 
ever, he  cut  off,  with  a  diagonal  slash  of  his 
penknife,  the  whole  corner  where  the  tell- 
tale initials  were  embroidered,  rolled  this  rag 
up,  tossed  it  out  of  the  window  into  the 
gutter,  and  rejoined  his  friend,  whom  he 
heard  whistling  in  the  corridor  without. 

On  entering  the  dining-room  shortly  after- 
wards, Tom  laughed  aloud  at  the  sight  of 
the  waiter  girls  who  were  nimbly  ministering 


142        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

to  the  needs  of  some  thirty  men  or  so  and 
half  a  dozen  women,  all  eating  for  dear  life. 
They  were  very  stout,  but  very  agile,  and 
they  looked  exactly  like  each  other,  and  ex- 
actly like  J.  Cutler  and  T.  Corson  Keach. 

Jack  Potts  smiled.  "  M.  Jane  Keach  and 
S.  Maria  Keach,"  he  explained,  in  an  under- 
tone, after  they  had  sat  down.  "  A.  Ma- 
tilda Keach  does  the  cookin',  G.  Washing- 
ton Keach,  aged  ten  or  so,  runs  errands, 
and  A.  Lincoln  Keach  is  boss  in  the  liv- 
ery stable.  They're  one  of  the  features 
of  Aurora,  and  even  the  inhabitants  can't 
hardly  tell  'em  apart.  They  keep  the  clean- 
est hotel  I  ever  struck  in  one  of  these  half- 
baked  little  Western  cities,  and  that's  very 
much  to  their  credit.  J.  Cutler  is  a  first- 
rate  feller,  but,  like  many  otherwise  sensi- 
ble men,  he  has  one  fatal  fad — he  thinks 
he's  gifted  as  a  detective.  Thus  he  regards 
all  guests  in  the  house  in  the  light  of  possi- 
ble fugitives  from  crime,  which  at  times  is 
a  little  embarrassin'  to  the  guests.  He'll 
prob'ly  ask  you  questions  in  an  artfully  art- 
less manner  peculiar  to  himself,  but  I  don't 
feel  afraid  he'll  get  much  out  of  you." 

The  etiquette  of  the  dinner-table  at  the 
Palace  Hotel  of  Aurora  seemed  to  be  to  eat 


BLUFF  143 

as  much  as  you  can  in  the  least  possible 
time,  say  nothing  during  the  process,  and 
then  get  out  the  instant  you  have  taken  your 
last  mouthful,  but  before  you  have  finished 
its  mastication  ;  that  is,  if  you  masticate  at 
all,  as  many  prefer  not  to  do.  The  men 
finished  and  bolted  one  by  one,  almost  with- 
out a  word — though  not  without  toothpicks. 
It  seemed  impossible  to  break  so  preternat- 
ural a  hush,  upon  which  one's  remarks  must 
needs  be  painfully  audible  to  the  entire  as- 
semblage, so  Tom  held  his  peace,  took  what 
was  set  before  him,  and  contented  himself 
with  observing  the  society  in  which  he  found 
himself.  Miners  and  ranchmen  were  the 
chief  ingredients,  with  a  sprinkling  of  more 
or  less  dapper  gentlemen,  who,  according  to 
Tom's  experience,  might  be  real  estate  and 
insurance  men,  grocery  clerks,  and  druggists, 
or  even  lawyers  and  doctors.  Some  had 
their  "ladies"  with  them — faded  looking 
women  with  painted  cheeks — and  there  were 
a  few  unwholesome  infants,  whose  table 
manners  were  even  more  atrocious  than  those 
of  his  small  cousins,  thought  Tom.  He  had 
seen  of  late  many  such  dismal  hotel  dining- 
rooms,  and  found  nothing  new  in  this  one, 
except  the  fat-faced  waiting  maids,  whose 


144       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

active  movements  and  glib  speech  he  fol- 
lowed with  fascinated  eyes  and  ears.  Jack 
Potts  was  evidently  a  favorite  with  them, 
and  they  bestowed  upon  him  many  nods  and 
becks  and  wreathed  smiles  as  they  passed 
and  repassed,  waiting  on  him  and  his  neigh- 
bors. This  by  no  means  surprised  Tom,  for 
he  found  the  drummer  remarkably  attractive 
himself,  and  had  noted,  too,  the  immediate 
effect  which  he  produced  on  the  blooming 
Jerroray.  There  was  a  coolness  about  him, 
a  dash  and  a  go,  which,  joined  to  his  good 
looks  and  vigor,  made  one  think  that  he  must 
be  interesting.  Tom  wondered  how  much  of 
his  attractiveness  lay  in  surface  charms,  and 
how  much  of  it  in  the  man's  real  essence. 

"  A  drummer — and,  above  all,  a  drum- 
mer in  the  jewelry  trade,"  he  said  to  him- 
self— "  is  hardly  what  we  are  apt  to  think  of 
as  a  large  man,  or  even  an  interesting  one, 
yet  he  gives  me  the  idea  of  force,  and  I  find 
myself  instinctively  wishing  all  the  time  to 
know  more  about  him.  Now  there  couldn't 
be  much  more  to  know  about  a  jewelry 
drummer.  And  besides,  he's  been  at  Har- 
vard, and  I  don't  beliere  men  are  generally 
fitted  for  the  jewelry  trade  by  courses  at 
Harvard  College." 


BLUFF  145 

The  room  was  now  nearly  empty,  and 
they  were  consuming  their  pie — of  which 
they  had  had  a  magnificent  choice  of  about 
a  dozen  sorts — when  just  at  this  point  of 
Tom's  thoughts  Jack  Potts  turned  to  him 
with  his  usual  smiling  expression. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  happen  to  be  wantin' 
anything  in  the  jewelry  line  ?  "  he  inquired. 
"I'd  be  glad  to  show  you  my  samples," 
and  he  tapped  lightly  the  bag  slung  at  his 
side. 

Tom  gazed  at  him  very  seriously.  "  How 
long  have  you  been  in  the  jewelry  trade  ? ' ' 
he  asked. 

"That's  rather  a  leadin'  question," 
laughed  Mr.  Potts,  "  but  I  don't  know  as 
I  mind  tellin'  you  that  I've  been  there — 
well — quite  as  long,  I'll  wager,  as  you've 
lived  in  Nebraska." 

Tom  could  not  avoid  smiling  at  this  unex- 
pected rejoinder.  "  You  don't  at  all  give 
one  the  impression  of  a  man  who  has  spent 
his  life  in  trade,"  he  retorted.  "  Evidently 
you're  not  naturally  a  business  man,  or,  after 
so  long  an  apprenticeship,  you  wouldn't  still 
be  a  drummer." 

"  I'm  really  head  of  the  firm,"  said  Jack 
Potts,  assuming  a  confidential  tone,  "  but 


146        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

I  go  out  on  the  road  occasionally  as  a  sort 
of  a  vacation  from  the  cares  of  business. 
Drummin's  first  rate  fun,  in  my  opinion." 

"  Mr.  Moses,  then,  I  suppose?  or  possibly 
Finkstein?  " 

Jack  Potts,  rising  to  leave  the  dining-room, 
answered  this  question  only  with  a  smile  at 
first,  but  as  they  passed  through  the  hall  on 
the  way  to  the  bar-room  he  remarked,  bland- 
ly :  "  I'd  no  more  think  of  travellin'  under 
an  alias  than  you  would." 

A  loud  roar  of  conversation  came  through 
the  closed  door  of  the  bar-room,  but  it  ceased 
instantly  when  the  door  opened  and  Mr. 
Potts  and  Mr.  Chance  entered  that  sanctum 
of  conviviality.  Every  eye  was  turned  upon 
them,  except  the  left  orb  of  a  cross-eyed 
ranchman  who  stood  within  five  feet,  and 
Tom  observed  that  he  shifted  his  organs  of 
vision  about  once  in  thirty  seconds,  as  if  to 
give  each  eye  a  chance.  This  performance 
had  much  the  air  of  turning  search-lights  off 
and  on,  and  our  hero's  risibilities  were  so 
actively  excited  thereby  that  he  could  hardly 
help  laughing  in  the  gentleman's  face.  But 
he  began  to  feel  curiously  that  he  was  him- 
self the  object  of  prominence,  that  the  eyes 
were  fixed  rather  on  him  than  on  Jack  Potts, 


BLUFF  147 

and  that  it  would  be  well  to  be  discreet  in 
his  behavior.  He  recalled  the  drummer's 
advice  on  the  train,  and  wondered,  in  a  some- 
what puzzled  way,  if  paying  attentions  to 
Jerroray  was  really  going  to  be  so  serious  as 
all  that.  Then,  beside  the  bar,  he  caught 
sight  of  Charley  Shore's  discontented,  pretty- 
face,  close  up  to  the  round  visage  of  Mr.  J. 
Cutler  Keach,  and  perceived,  from  the  direc- 
tion of  their  eyes,  that  they  were  discussing 
him.  He  felt  that  he  must  act  at  once,  with 
resolution  and  promptness,  and  without  be- 
traying that  he  realized  himself  to  be  the  ob- 
ject of  enmity. 

"  Would  there  be  any  harm  in  setting  up 
drinks  all  around  ?  "  he  asked  of  Mr.  Potts, 
in  an  undertone. 

"  No,  indeed.  Great  idea,"  answered 
that  gentleman. 

So  Tom,  with  composure,  made  a  little 
speech  of  those  few  well-chosen  words  that 
are  always  used  by  amateur  orators.  He  said 
in  substance  that  he  had  been  but  a  short 
time  in  Aurora,  but  that  he  was  greatly 
taken  with  the  town  and  its  attractions,  in- 
cluding the  hotel,  which  was  a  tidy  credit 
to  the  family  of  Keach,  etc.,  etc.,  and  that, 
in  short,  he  should  like  to  invite  all  the 


148        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

gentlemen  present  to  join  with  him  in 
drinking  the  health  of  their  charming  little 
city. 

This  was  immediately  done  with  a  great 
good  will,  and  Tom  felt  afterwards  that 
though  they  still  looked  at  him  as  if  he  were 
an  escaped  curiosity,  there  was  certainly  a 
benevolence  in  their  scrutiny  that  had  not 
been  there  before.  The  frown  on  Mr.  Shore's 
countenance  convinced  him  further  that  he 
had  done  wisely  and  well.  He  started  to 
take  out  his  handkerchief  at  this  point,  for- 
getting in  his  complaisance  that  he  had  re- 
solved to  use  it  only  in  discreet  privacy, 
but  a  touch  on  his  elbow  stopped  him  half 
way. 

"I  should  think  you'd  had  enough  diffi- 
culty with  handkerchiefs  for  one  day,"  said 
Jack  Potts  in  an  undertone,  and  then  laughed 
as  if  he  had  been  telling  a  good  story.  Tom 
look  bewildered.  "  Laugh  you  d — n  fool," 
said  Jack  Potts,  forcibly.  ' '  And  wipe  your 
mouth  on  your  sleeve  like  your  betters." 
Tom  laughed  then  as  if  the  joke  were  a 
capital  one,  and  Mr.  Potts  joined  with  him 
in  an  innocent  and  hearty  manner  that 
caused  Tom  to  envy  him  his  powers  of  dis- 
simulation. Jack  Potts  whispered  one  more 


BLUFF  149 

word  in  his  ear  as  if  it  were  an  addendum  to 
the  joke.  "  Get  out  of  this  as  soon  as  you 
can.  It  ain't  the  safest  place  in  the  world 
just  at  present.  And  don't  loaf  round  town 
much."  Whereupon  they  both  laughed 
again. 

Then  Jack  Potts  moved  up  to  Mr.  Shore 
and  Mr.  Keach,  and  began  talking  to  them 
in  the  same  undertone,  as  if  he  were  telling 
them  the  same  joke. 

"  By  George  !  "  exclaimed  Charley  Shore, 
"  that's  a  good  one." 

Tom  observed  that  Mr.  Keach  still  had  his 
eye  on  him,  however,  and  bought  a  few 
cigars  as  he  paid  his  score,  hoping  to  propi- 
tiate him  thereby  and  then  get  away. 

"  Terrible  train  robberies,"  observed  Mr. 
Keach,  carelessly. 

"  Yes,  awful,"  answered  Tom. 

"Guess  there'll  be  no  more,  though," 
this  with  a  watchful  glance. 

"  Why  so?" 

"  Got  our  eye  on  the  thief." 

"  You've  not  caught  him,  have  you?  " 

"  No,  but  we  will." 

"  That's  interesting.  I'd  like  to  be  pres- 
ent." 

"  Could  be  managed  easily." 


150      -YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  Well,  let  me  know  beforehand.  I  shall 
be  round  here  a  few  days.  I'm  rather  inter- 
ested in  the  man." 

"Smart  old  cuss,"  said  J.  Cutler  Keach, 
as  if  he  were  thinking  of  something  else. 

"  Old?  "  said  Tom,  in  surprise. 

"Sixty,  if  he's  a  day,"  rejoined  Mr. 
Keach. 

"  Are  you  sure  of  it  ?  " 

"  Sure  as  we  want  to  be." 

"Well,  I  hope  you'll  catch  him  then," 
said  Tom,  with  a  laugh.  "An  old  villain 
always  seems  so  much  worse  than  a  young 
one."  This  was  a  new  and  interesting 
view  of  Mr.  Nelson,  and  he  was  anxious 
to  discuss  the  matter  further  with  J.  Cutler 
Keach,  but  remembering  Jack  Potts's  warn- 
ing he  took  out  his  watch.  "I'll  have  to 
go  out  now  on  my  business,"  he  observed, 
"but  I'll  be  back  again  by  and  by,  and 
should  be  glad  to  continue  this  conversation. 
Young  or  old,  Mr.  Nelson  is  certainly  an 
interesting  gentleman,  if  one  may  judge  by 
the  number  of  different  opinions  about  him, 
and  I  should  like  to  hear  yours,  as  I  under- 
stand you're  clever  at  detective  work." 

"Who — me?  Reckon  somebody's  been 
stuffin'  you,"  said  Mr.  Keach — this  modest 


BLUFF  151 

disclaimer  accompanied  by  a  pleased  smile. 
"  But  you're  welcome  to  my  opinion  if 
you'll  give  me  yours." 

"  It's  a  bargain,"  said  Tom.  He  lighted 
one  of  his  cigars,  looked  about  the  room 
where  the  company  in  little  knots  was  now 
engaged  in  low  conversation,  observed  that 
Jack  Potts  was  still  holding  Mr.  Shore  with 
his  glittering  tongue,  and  then  proceeded  to 
get  himself  out  by  the  street  door  with  as 
much  coolness  and  nonchalance  as  he  could 
summon.  As  he  walked  across  the  room  the 
same  complete  silence  as  before  fell  upon  it. 
Every  one  was  looking  at  him,  but  he  pre- 
tended not  to  notice.  J.  Cutler  Keach 
whispered  a  word  in  the  ear  of  one  of  the 
later  editions  of  his  name,  who  deftly 
wound  his  way  through  the  crowd  in  our 
hero's  wake.  Tom  passed  through  the 
screen  doors,  which  flapped  together  behind 
him,  and  down  the  steps  into  the  street. 
Instantly  he  heard  in  the  room  he  had  left 
an  uproar  of  excited  talk,  which  stirred  his 
blood  and  made  his  heart  beat.  What  did 
it  mean  ?  What  was  going  to  happen  ? 
Was  he  about  to  be  lynched  for  his  atten- 
tions to  the  belle  of  Aurora?  Or  did  they 
connect  him  in  some  curious  way  with  the 


152       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

outlaw,  Tom  Nelson?  No,  that  was  too 
crazy  and  impossible — it  must  be  merely 
that  they  were  all  devoted  to  Jerroray  and 
incensed  that  he  should  seem  to  cut  them 
out. 

"  Well,  they  shan't  scare  me  off,"  he  said 
to  himself,  with  grim  determination  on  his 
face.  He  purchased  in  the  first  shop  he 
came  to  half  a  dozen  high-colored  handker- 
chiefs that  seemed  to  him  more  suited  to  the 
climate  than  his  own ;  and  then  secured  a 
man  to  drive  him  to  the  residence  of  the 
Sheriff — which  proved  to  be  a  showy  man- 
sion on  a  slight  eminence,  three-quarters  of 
a  mile  from  the  centre  of  the  town. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A   CHOICE    OF    THREE 

"He's  the  man,"  declared  J.  Cutler 
Keach  with  conviction  the  instant  Tom  had 
disappeared,  and  on  this  statement  being 
questioned  vociferously,  he  narrated  with 
considerable  embellishment  the  conversation 
which  had  just  taken  place  between  him  and 
the  bogus  Mr.  Chance.  "He's  a  plucky 
gent  to  come  here  and  defy  us  in  our  midst, 
but  he  ain't  overburdened  with  intellect  or 
he'd  have  been  sharp  enough  not  to  let  on 
how  surprised  he  was  when  I  said  Tom 
Nelson  was  old.  '  Hope  you'll  catch  him, 
then,'  said  he,  smilin'  away  to  himself. 
'An'  I'll  come  back  to-night  and  talk  it 
over  with  you.'  Thinks  he'll  throw  sand 
in  my  eyes,  does  he?  Guess  I  ain't  waitin' 
till  he  comes  back  to-night !  ' ' 

"Where's  the  initials  you  found?"  asked 
Jack  Potts. 

Mr.  Keach  proudly  displayed  the  dusty, 
three-cornered  rag  of  Tom's  handkerchief. 


154       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  How  do  you  know  that's  his  ?  Did  you 
see  him  drop  it  ?  " 

"  George  Washington  was  comin'  home 
from  school  an'  seen  it  thrown  out  the  win- 
dow of  No.  13,  and  run  and  picked  it  up." 

"With  true  Keach  curiosity,"  put  in 
Jack  Potts,  smilingly. 

"  We  Reaches  is  born  with  the  idea  that 
things  don't  happen  without  reason,"  said 
J.  Cutler,  with  genial  pride.  "  So  George 
Washington  brings  it  to  me  and  asks  me  if 
I  know  any  '  T.  N.' — which  I  don't,  but  I'd 
like  to,  says  I  to  G.  W.  An'  then  I  re- 
member what  you  remarked  about  Mr. 
Chance,  an'  then  in  a  minute  in  comes 
Charley  Shore  an'  tells  me  all  he  knows." 

"Which  don't  take  long,"  said  a  voice 
from  the  crowd. 

"  An'  then  some  other  gentlemen  with 
ideas  on  the  subject,  an'  we  puts  two  an' 
two  together " 

"And  find  you  have  eight  or  ten," 
laughed  Mr.  Potts. 

"  Well,  what  we've  got  is  enough  to  arrest 
him  on,  anyhow,"  returned  J.  Cutler  Keach. 

"  An'  he'll  be  languishin'  in  jail  in  about 
one  hour,"  stated  Mr.  Charley  Shore,  tri- 
umphantly. 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  155 

Jack  Potts  started.  "  Have  you  got  out 
a  warrant  ?  "  he  asked,  quickly. 

"No,"  answered  Mr.  Shore ;  "but  that 
don't  take  long.  An'  the  Terror's  right 
handy  at  the  Court  House  to-day.  I  just 
seen  him  comin'  back  from  dinner. ' ' 

At  this  moment  the  youthful  Keach  re- 
turned, breathless.  "  Bought — himself — 
some  —  pocky  hankershers  —  at  Joe  Pye's 
notion  store,"  he  declared,  in  jerks,  while 
the  crowd  exchanged  glances  of  excited 
conviction,  "then  —  then — got  the  Blub- 
ber —  to  drive  him  —  up  to  the  Terror's 
house !  ' ' 

Everybody  looked  very  much  surprised 
and  half  incredulous  at  this  statement,  ex- 
cept Charley  Shore  and  the  perennially  smil- 
ing Mr.  Potts. 

"  Great  Scott,  he's  got  the  nerve  !  " 

"  Don't  mind  puttin'  his  head  in  the 
lion's  mouth !  " 

"  Now,  you  know  a  man  can't  help  ad- 
mirin'  such  a  cool  cuss  as  that " 

Charley  Shore  sniffed  impatiently  at  these 
comments.  "He's  after  the  girl  —  that 
don't  take  no  nerve — an'  the  Sheriff's  a  mile 
away  down  town  here." 

"Do   you    mean   Miss   Jerroray?"    in- 


156       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

quired  Mr.  Keach.  "  Never  heard  you  re- 
fer to  her  as  '  the  girl '  before. ' ' 

"  '  The  gurrl '  give  him  the  mitten  since 
Tom  Nelson  held  him  up  last  night — that's 
why.  An'  Charley  ain't  over  fond  of  either 
her  or  Tom  Nelson  to-day."  This  was  Mr. 
Neddy  Bedloe's  contribution  to  the  discus- 
sion, and  as  it  produced  an  immediate  effect, 
he  proceeded  to  take  advantage  of  the  pleas- 
ing prominence  it  brought  him  into  by  nar- 
rating briefly  the  occurrences  of  the  night 
before  at  Bud's  great  ball,  while  the  crowd 
listened  eagerly. 

"  Well,  he's  got  good  taste  in  gals,"  com- 
mented one  man. 

"  They  ain't  many  fellers  as  would  be  a 
match  for  Jerroray — but  I  reckon  Tom  Nel- 
son would,"  said  another. 

"  Seems  a  pity  to  disturb  their  taty-tate," 
observed  a  third.  "  I  vote  we  gives  'em  a 
couple  hours  or  so  for  spoonin',  'fore  we  go 
up  after  him." 

These  remarks  incensed  Mr.  Shore  beyond 
endurance.  "  You  think  it's  nice  for  the 
Honorable  Terence  Roray's  daughter  to  be 
spoonin'  with  a  train-robber  —  a  common 
thief,  do  you  ?  You  think  that  would  be  a 
nice  match  to  encourage?  All  of  you're 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  157 

afraid  of  him ;  though  there  are  thirty  of 
you,  you  don't  dare  go  up  an'  face  him  all 
by  himself!  " 

"Nor  yet  all  by  Jerroray,"  put  in  Mr. 
Potts,  with  a  sympathetic  gravity  that 
brought  down  the  house. 

"  Say,  Charley,  if  you've  got  all  that  agin 
him  why  don't  you  call  him  out  ?  "  queried 
a  good  -  looking  young  fellow  in  full  new 
cowboy  rig. 

"  Seems  to  me  you'd  orter  settle  the  pri- 
vate quarrel  before  the  law  puts  its  finger  in 
the  pie — you  won't  get  no  chance  after- 
wards," said  an  older  man. 

"  Mr.  Shore  ain't  over  handy  with  his 
revolver,  an'  he  ain't  goin'  to  take  no  risks 
if  he  can  get  other  folks  to  take  'em  for 
him,"  remarked  one  of  the  dapper  and  clerk- 
like  boarders  with  a  facetious  wink  to  every- 
body within  range  of  his  eye. 

"You  shut  up,  Andy  Slade,  or  you'll 
take  bigger  risks  than  you'll  like,"  said 
Mr.  Shore,  angrily. 

The  crowd  immediately  cleared  around 
them,  while  Messrs.  Shore  and  Slade  looked 
daggers  and  six-shooters  and  Winchester 
rifles  at  each  other ;  but  whether  either  of 
them  would  have  proceeded  from  these  kill- 


158        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

ing  looks  to  murderous  actions  will  never  be 
known,  for  Mr.  J.  Cutler  Keach,  weary  of 
so  much  talk,  burst  in  at  this  point  with  for- 
cible recommendations  to  the  crowd  at  large 
that  they  should  sink  private  animosities  for 
the  public  good  and  proceed  to  business. 
He  stated  the  case  of  the  State  against  Tom 
Nelson  with  eloquent  brevity,  reminded  them 
that  Mr.  Nelson  was  now  within  their  reach, 
but  was  not  likely  to  be  so  long,  that  it 
would  redound  eternally  to  their  credit  if 
they  caught  him,  and  eternally  to  their  dis- 
credit if  they  lost  him,  and  that  here  was 
Aurora's  great  chance  to  show  that  she 
needed  neither  Pinkertons  norByrneses  from 
outside,  as  had  been  insultingly  suggested 
by  rival  cities  not  five  hundred  miles  away, 
but  that  she  was  amply  able  to  work  out  her 
own  salvation  from  within,  with  her  own 
superior  resources  of  intellect  and  detective 
ability.  Mr.  Keach  wound  up  with  the 
practical  suggestion  that  they  should  repair 
at  once  to  No.  13,  the  chamber  assigned  Mr. 
Chance,  of  Nebraska,  and  explore  the  pos- 
sessions of  that  very  suspicious  character, 
with  an  eye  to  the  discovery  of  more  T.  N.'s. 
The  crowd,  with  the  strange  human  and 
sheeplike  instinct  to  follow  anyone  who  has 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  159 

force  enough  to  want  to  lead,  was  strongly 
swayed  by  the  vigor  of  Mr.  Keach's  mind, 
and  for  the  moment  his  wishes  were  its  own. 
In  thirty  seconds  they  would  have  had  in 
their  hands  all  the  incriminating  T.  N.'s  of 
Tom  Norrie's  neatly  marked  linen,  and 
would  have  been  hot  on  his  trail,  but  just 
here  Mr.  Potts  interposed  with  the  sugges- 
tion that  they  should  pause  and  reflect.  To 
break  into  Mr.  Chance's  room  and  investi- 
gate his  belongings  without  authority,  which, 
in  case  they  were  mistaken,  would  put  them 
in  a  humiliating  and  ridiculous  position,  and 
perhaps  even  a  dangerous  one,  if  Mr.  Chance 
himself  should  turn  up  inopportunely,  was 
possibly  not  the  best  way  of  securing  their 
ends.  A  warrant  for  his  arrest  would  be  a 
safer  means  at  least,  was  easily  secured  if 
there  was  any  one  willing  to  swear  it  out, 
and  would  enable  them  to  investigate  Mr. 
Chance  and  his  property  at  their  leisure  and 
under  the  protection  of  the  law. 

Even  with  his  manner  of  cool  indifference, 
his  ironical,  half-humorous  way  of  speaking, 
there  was  apparently  as  much  power  to  move 
men  in  Jack  Potts  as  in  the  estimable  Mr. 
Cutler  Keach.  The  drummer,  while  ap- 
pearing to  side  entirely  with  Mr.  Keach  in 


160       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

his  condemnation  of  Tom  Nelson's  awful 
crimes,  and  his  desire  to  bring  the  villain  to 
justice,  somehow  brought  out  almost  imme- 
diately in  the  crowd  the  sentiment  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  outlaw  and  of  admiration  for 
his  bold  deeds  which  to  Tom  Norrie  had 
been  so  striking  a  thing  in  the  talk  he  heard 
of  him  at  the  Empire  Hotel  at  Bud.  The 
men  were  by  no  means  sure,  after  all,  that 
they  wouldn't  like  to  see  so  smart  a  cuss  as 

he,   and  one  so  d d  plucky,  get  away 

with  flying  colors  and  leave  justice  to 
whistle.  Mr.  Keach  was  in  despair,  and  so, 
to  all  outward  seeming,  was  Mr.  Potts,  who 
stood  by  Mr.  Keach  as  his  most  sympathetic 
ally,  yet  all  the  time  by  little  artful  remarks 
and  insinuations  of  the  greatest  apparent 
simplicity  fanned  that  temper  in  the  crowd 
which  he  represented  himself  as  most  desir- 
ous to  allay. 

The  drummer  also  encouraged  a  wordy  al- 
tercation that  arose  as  to  who  should  swear 
out  the  warrant.  Everybody  except  Mr. 
Shore  thought  Mr.  Shore  the  man  to  do  it, 
but  he  insisted  that  it  should  be  Mr.  Keach. 
Mr.  Keach  said  he'd  just  as  lief  do  it,  but 
he  wasn't  goin'  to  be  bossed  by  nobody,  and 
he  hadn't  been  to  Bud,  and  Charley  Shore 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  161 

had,  and  it  was  much  more  'propriate  that 
Charley  Shore  should  do  it,  and  if  he  wasn't 
willin'  to  he'd  just  better  give  the  whole 
thing  up. 

Mr.  Shore,  finally  accepted  this  view  of 
the  situation,  but  he  needed  even  then  so 
much  bolstering  before  he  could  be  brought 
to  the  point  of  action,  that  it  was  more  than 
an  hour  before  the  first  practical  steps  were 
taken,  and  a  full  hour  and  a  half  before  the 
necessary  warrant  was  sworn  out  for  the  ar- 
rest of  Tom  Nelson,  train  robber,  travelling 
under  the  alias  of  J.  Chance,  of  Nebraska. 

And  long  before  this  denouement  was 
reached  Jack  Potts  had  withdrawn  himself 
reluctantly  from  the  counsels  of  Mr.  Keach, 
on  the  plea  of  the  absolute  necessity  that 
he  should  finish  up  his  business  at  Aurora 
and  reach  Bloomer  that  night.  He  walked 
rapidly  down  the  main  street  of  the  town, 
and  went  into  a  corner  sample-room,  three 
blocks  from  the  hotel.  He  left  this  estab- 
lishment two  minutes  later,  by  the  side-door, 
and  turned  soon  from  the  side  street  in 
which  he  found  himself  into  a  narrow,  strag- 
gling alley.  In  a  moment  he  was  out  of 
sight  of  the  street  he  had  just  left,  and  alone 
also  in  the  alley.  He  started  into  a  rapid 


1 62        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

fox-trot,  keeping  a  constant  lookout  behind 
him  as  he  ran  ;  but  no  one  appeared,  and 
he  soon  arrived  at  a  door  on  which  he  gave 
three  quick  knocks,  followed  in  an  instant 
by  another  three.  The  door  was  at  once 
unbolted,  and  he  was  inside  what  appeared 
to  be  the  joint  residence  of  a  man  and  a 
horse,  both  of  whom  showed  great  delight 
at  the  sight  of  him. 

"  Saddle  Folly  as  quick  as  you  can,"  said 
Jack  Potts,  and  as  the  man  flew  about  his 
task  he  himself  put  on  the  bridle,  kissing  the 
mare's  soft  nose  as  he  did  so.  "  Have  you 
had  her  out  to-day  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  sorr.  She  come  in  last  night  so  wet 
that  I  thinks  to  meself  she  won't  need  more'n 
three  miles  the  day,  an'  I'll  give  her  that  at 
evenin',  I  will,  when  there  ain't  no  one  a- 
lookin'." 

"  That's  all  right,  Mick.  She'll  get  a 
good  pull  now,  the  beauty,"  and  Jack  Potts 
vaulted  into  his  saddle  from  the  ground,  like 
a  boy  full  of  surplus  energy. 

"She'll  be  good  fer  it,  too,"  said  the 
Irishman,  opening  the  door  to  let  them  pass 
out.  "She  warn't  no  more  blowed  last 
night  than  if  she'd  been  out  for  just  a  can- 
ter." 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  163 

Horse  and  rider  sped  away  on  an  easy  lope 
out  of  the  town,  and  then  skirted  it  in  a 
rapid  circuit,  which  brought  them  soon  into 
the  rear  of  Mr.  Terence  Roray's  big  white 
residence,  sitting  on  its  little  hill.  Ernest 
came  out  the  back  door  as  they  rode  up,  and 
Jack  Potts  looked  at  him  sharply  before  dis- 
mounting. 

"I've  got  five  gold  eagles  in  my  pocket  for 
you  if  you  can  keep  your  mouth  shut,"  he 
said,  almost  sternly.  "  And  there's  no  time 
to  lose.  Will  you  do  it  ?" 

"Reckon  I  will,"  said  Ernest,  meeting 
the  look  squarely. 

"You'll  do,"  said  Potts  briefly,  satisfied 
with  his  scrutiny.  "  Keep  the  women  folks 
quiet,  too,  and  let  the  other  feller  that'll 
come  out  here  in  one  minute  or  less  take  this 
mare  and  go  where  he  d — n  pleases.  The 
sheriff's  down  town,  isn't  he?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  the  laconic  Ernest. 

Jack  Potts  entered  the  back  door  as  famil- 
iarly as  if  he  had  been  there  before,  but  the 
big,  good-natured  looking  Irish  woman  in 
the  kitchen  gave  a  faint  scream  and  threw 
up  her  hands  at  her  first  look  at  him. 

"  Great  luck  !  "  cried  Jack  Potts.  "  It's 
Micky's  wife  !  You  can  do  me  a  fine  turn, 


1 64       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

Biddy,  and  put  money  in  your  pocket  and 
Mick's.  There's  a  young  man  in  with  Miss 
Roray  that  has  got  to  get  out  of  town 
mighty  quick  or  he'll  be  arrested  in  about 
five  minutes  and  get  into  the  lockup.  I 
want  to  see  him  this  instant,  and  I'll  give 
you  your  directions  later,  but  if  the  crowd 
should  turn  up  before  I  expect,  just  remem- 
ber one  thing,  the  black  mare  ain't  mine, 
she's  Mr.  Chance's,  and  he  got  away  on  her 
before  I  could  nab  him.  Do  you  catch  on  ?  " 

Biddy  looked  perfect  intelligence.  "  Yis, 

I  catches  on,  Mr. ,"  and  she  hesitated, 

with  a  twinkle  in  her  eyes. 

"  Potts,"  supplied  the  drummer.  "  Jack 
Potts.  Now  for  Miss  Roray." 

Biddy  led  him  at  once  to  the  parlor. 
"  Here's  a  gintleman  wants  to  see  you  sure, 
Jerry,"  she  explained,  as  she  stood  wiping 
her  hands  on  her  apron,  in  the  door  of  the 
gilded  and  frescoed  apartment,  gorgeous 
with  shaded  plush  furniture  of  four  different 
colors. 

Jerroray  rose,  startled,  from  her  tea-ta- 
ble, which  was  of  uncommon  size,  and  set  as 
if  for  a  meal,  with  coarse  plates  and  knives 
and  forks  in  high  contrast  to  the  dainty  tea- 
cups from  Bloomer.  The  idea  of  a  tea-gown 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  165 

in  the  mind  of  Aurora's  belle  seemed  to  be 
a  mixture  of  a  ball  dress  and  a  Mother  Hub- 
bard  wrapper,  for  she  was  at  once  decolletee 
and  minus  a  waist  line.  But  the  bizarre 
costume  was  brilliantly  becoming,  and  her 
complexion  was  unimpaired  by  the  garish 
daylight.  Both  she  and  Mr.  Chance  looked 
flushed  and  happy,  and  it  required  no  dis- 
cernment to  scent  flirtation  in  the  very  air. 

A  pained  expression  came  on  the  face  of 
Mr.  Potts,  but  he  bore  up  heroically  and  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  business,  wasting  no  time 
on  preliminaries.  With  a  mere  statement  of 
the  situation  he  urged  Mr.  Chance  to  fly  im- 
mediately. "  You're  not  safe  in  this  town 
an  instant.  They've  raided  your  room,  and 
are  as  sure  you're  Tom  Nelson  as — as  I'm 
sure  you're  not !  Take  the  horse  waitin'  at 
the  back-door,  ride  down  the  hill  and  straight 
toward  the  sun  for  three  miles  as  near  as 
you  can  judge.  Then  give  the  mare  her 
head,  let  her  take  her  own  gait — it's  a  fast 
one — and  she'll  bring  you  to  a  safe  place 
before  night.  The  people' 11  take  care  of  you 
and  no  questions  asked,  and  you're  to  stay 
quiet  till  you  hear  from  me.  I'll  give  you  a 
good  long  start,  and  then  if  Miss  Roray  will 
lend  me  one  of  her  father's  horses " 


1 66       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"I'll  lend  you  my  own  horse,"  said  Jer- 
roray,  with  pride. 

"  I'll  make  a  feint  of  chasin'  you,  just  to 
put  the  people  off  the  track.  It  would  be  as 
much  as  my  head's  worth  if  they  knew  I'd 
helped  you  off." 

"By  George,  Potts,  you're  a  good  fel- 
low," said  Tom,  warmly,  seizing  his  hand. 
"You've  saved  my  life." 

< <  No — Folly'  11  do  that.  She  ain' t  a  horse 
I'm  in  the  habit  of  lendin'  even  to  my  best 
friends,  but  she's  the  only  person  that  can 
get  you  out  of  this  scrape.  Now,  away  with 
you.  Miss  Roray  can  see  you  off  if  she  likes, 
but  I'll  stay  here  so's  not  to  give  the  man 
outside  there  any  more  lies  to  tell  than  are 
absolutely  necessary.  Put  all  your  trust  in 
Folly — she'll  beat  wisdom  out  of  his  boots 
any  day  in  the  week." 

Tom  stayed  for  no  more,  but  with  a  warm 
pressure  of  Miss  Roray's  hand  at  the  kitchen 
door,  and  one  look  into  her  fine  eyes,  re- 
sponsive now  with  the  excitement,  he  leaped 
to  the  saddle  and  was  off  down  the  hill  and 
straight  into  the  west  on  a  freed  hand- 
gallop. 

Jerroray  stood  on  the  back  steps  shading 
her  eyes  with  her  hand,  her  face  flushed  and 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  167 

her  lips  parted,  while  Ernest  leaned  against 
the  house,  both  staring  after  the  rapidly 
diminishing  horse  and  rider. 

"My,  but  ain't  that  a  pretty  horse!" 
said  the  young  lady. 

"  I  never  see  a  neater,  and  not  a  spot  on 
her  nowheres,"  declared  Ernest.  "  You  bet 
your  little  life  she  can  go  some. ' ' 

Here  Biddy  touched  the  rapt  Jerroray  on 
her  shoulder.  "  The  gintleman  inside  would 
like  to  spake  to  ye,  Jerry,"  she  said,  with  a 
broad  Irish  grin  on  her  good  Irish  face. 

Mr.  Potts  had  come  out  into  the  kitchen 
to  view  the  departure,  and  now  communi- 
cated to  Miss  Roray  his  wishes  as  to  what 
story  should  be  told  by  herself,  Ernest,  and 
Biddy.  "  Biddy  here's  all  right,"  he  said, 
while  the  increased  breadth  of  Biddy's  grin 
corroborated  him,  "and  I  fixed  the  man 
with  a  sum  of  money,  but  if  he  understands 
he's  servin'  your  interests  as  well " 

"Exactly,"  said  Jerroray.  "I  see,  an' 
he'll  do  it,  too."  She  started  promptly  to 
go  out  the  door  again. 

"Wait,"  said  Mr.  Potts,  taking  out  his 
watch.  "  I'll  follow  our  friend  in  about  ten 
minutes  if  Ernest  will  have  the  horse  ready, 
and  meanwhile  he'd  better  keep  a  sharp 


1 68       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

lookout  towards  the  town  and  let  us  know 
the  moment  he  sees  any  one  comin'." 

It  did  not  take  Miss  Roray  long  to  com- 
municate the  drummer's  wishes,  strongly 
emphasized  by  her  own,  to  the  slouchy  Er- 
nest, and  she  reappeared  in  the  kitchen  with 
a  rapidity  which  indicated  that  ten  minutes 
was  none  too  long  for  all  she  had  to  say  to 
Mr.  Potts. 

"  Come  on  into  the  parlor,"  she  said, 
leading  the  way.  "  I  was  forgettin'  you'd 
got  to  be  off  after  him  so  quick.  I'll  give 
you  some  afternoon  tea. ' ' 

"Suppose  I  prefer  morning  tea — tea  of 
the  dawn — Aurora  tea  ?  "  he  inquired,  as 
she  poured  out  a  mixture  suspiciously  dark- 
colored. 

"  Say,  we  ain't  got  time  to  joke.  I  want 
you  to  explain." 

"  Explain  what?" 

"  Everything.  He  is  Tom  Nelson,  ain't 
he?" 

"  There's  no  proof,  but  your  friend  Mr. 
Shore  and  Mr.  J.  Cutler  Keach  are  sure  of 
it." 

"  Is  Charley  Shore  at  the  bottom  of  this  ? ' ' 
inquired  the  young  lady  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  Mr.  Shore  is  certainly  very  much  inter- 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  169 

ested  in  securing  Mr.  Chance's  arrest,"  said 
the  drummer. 

"  I'll  pay  him  back  well,"  declared  Jerro- 
ray,  with  a  most  vicious  and  revengeful  ex- 
pression. "  What  business^  has  he  got,  I'd 

like  to  know,  to  interfere  with — with " 

she  stopped  self-consciously. 

"  With  your  love  affairs  ?  "  suggested  Jack 
Potts.  "Is  it  a  love  affair — so  soon  ?  "  he 
asked,  with  a  touch  of  real  earnestness  in 
his  voice,  as  he  leaned  forward  in  his  chair 
to  get  a  better  view  of  her  face. 

"  No,"  she  replied,  with  prompt  but  some- 
how unconvincing  disclaimer ;  then  added, 
in  a  moment,  "  but  I  told  you  I  was  in  love 
with  Tom  Nelson." 

Mr.  Potts  set  down  his  cup  of  tea  with  a 
grave  face.  "I've  half  a  mind  to  tell  you 
somethin',"  he  said,  thoughtfully.  "They 
say  women  can't  keep  secrets,  but  you  strike 
me  as  a  woman  that  could  if  she  wanted 
to." 

"  You  needn't  tell  me  any  secrets  if  you're 
afraid  I'll  give  'em  away,"  said  Jerroray, 
proudly,  ' '  but  I  never  went  back  on  any- 
body yet." 

"  I  can  well  believe  that,"  said  Jack  Potts. 
' '  You  strike  me  as  an  uncommonly  good 


170        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

feller  in  every  way.  By  the  by,  do  you 
ride?"  he  asked,  irrelevantly. 

"  I  should  smile  !  "  asseverated  the  young 
lady.  "You  can  judge  by  my  horse,  the 
Red  Devil,  that  you're  agoin'  to  take.  I 
trained  him  myself,  after  two  men  had  given 
him  up.  He's  a  bute,  too,  though  maybe 
he  ain't  so  fast  as  your  mare.  But  he's 
thoroughbred,  every  inch  of  him,  like  she 
is,  too,  I  suppose  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,  Folly's  certainly  thoroughbred," 
said  Mr.  Potts,  absently,  with  his  eyes  fixed 
on  his  companion's  face. 

"  I  don't  see  how  if  you're  a  drummer 
you  happen  to  have  a  horse  lyin'  round  loose 
so  handy  in  Aurory,"  went  on  Jerroray, 
with  sudden  suspicion.  "And  besides  this 
ain't  tellin'  me  your  secret — even  if  I  am  a 
good  feller." 

"  It  ain't  exactly  a  secret,"  said  Mr.  Potts. 
"It's  only  a  fact.  Only  I  don't  want  you 
to  tell  anyone  that  I  told  it  to  you.  It's 
merely  that  though  our  lately  departed 
friend  ain't  Mr.  Chance,  he  ain't  Tom  Nel- 
son either." 

' '  Do  you  know  that  ?  ' ' 

"I  do." 

"  Could  you  prove  it  ?  " 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  171 

"I  could." 

"  Well,  why  didn't  you,  then,  and  keep 
that  jealous  little  chump,  Charley  Shore,  from 
actin'  up  so  and  drivin'  him  out  of  town  ?  " 

"Well,  now,  that  is  a  secret,  Miss 
Roray.  No,  don't  look  like  that ;  it's  a 
secret  you'll  know  all  about  some  day,  if 
you'll  let  me  tell  it  to  you,  but  it's  a  long 
story,  and  there  isn't  time  now.  I  had 
good  reasons  for  not  provin'  that  Mr.  Chance 
wasn't  Tom  Nelson,  and  you  see  he  hasn't 
suffered.  He'll  have  a  lot  of  fun  out  of  it, 
too,  and  perhaps  he'll  meet  the  great  Tom 
Nelson  before  he's  through  with  his  adven- 
tures, and  that'll  make  him  happy." 

"  Then  he'll  get  me  my  diamonds  back !  " 

"  He's  not  very  likely  to  do  that,"  said 
Mr.  Potts,  with  a  smile.  "Don't  expect 
impossibilities  of  an  Eastern  tenderfoot. ' ' 

"Eastern  tenderfoot!"  exclaimed  Miss 
Roray. 

"  You  surely  didn't  think  he  came  from 
Nebraska,  did  you?"  inquired  Mr.  Potts. 
"  He's  an  Easterner  and  a  Harvard  man,  out 
here  on  a  lark,  and  under  an  assumed  name, 
so  that  if  he  gets  into  difficulties  his  family 
won't  know  it.  He's  a  first-rate  feller,  too, 
and  I  like  him,  or  I  wouldn't  have  taken  all 


1 72       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

this  trouble  to  save  his  precious  hide,  and 
lent  him  the  best  mare  he  ever  threw  a  leg 
over.  But  he  won't  bring  you  back  your 
diamonds — mark  my  words  !  " 

"Will  you,  then?  " 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  Tom  Nelson's  a 
man  of  gallantry,  who  don't  suffer  other 
gentlemen  to  do  his  duty  for  him.  If  you 
receive  your  diamonds  back  it'll  be  from 
his  own  hands.  I  can't  even  hope  that  he'll 
let  me  be  his  emissary.  He's  seen  you,  and 
that's  enough.  They've  told  me  what  he 
said  to  you  on  the  train,  and  he'll  keep  that 
half  promise  as  religiously  as  if  he'd  taken 
his  oath." 

' '  My,  but  he  must  be  a  dandy  !  ' '  cried 
Jerroray,  enthusiastically.  "An'  you  seem 
to  know  a  lot  about  him  ?  " 

"I've  met  him,  as  I  told  you,"  said  Mr. 
Potts.  "  But  what's  more  to  the  point, 
I've  happened  to  know  some  of  his  friends 
very  well,  and  from  what  they've  told  me 
it  ain't  difficult  for  me  to  guess  what'd  be 
the  effect  on  him  of  meetin'  you  in  one  of 
his  hold-ups.  He's  a  passionate  admirer  of 
beauty,  and — you're  the  most  beautiful 
woman  I've  ever  seen." 

"  That's  an  A  No.  i,"  said  Jerroray,  with 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  173 

frank  pleasure.  "And  I  should  like  to  re- 
mark that  you  ain't  any  slouch  yourself," 
she  added,  by  way  of  the  retort  courteous. 
"  I  don't  believe  even  Tom  Nelson  can  beat 
you  on  looks." 

"  I  am  afraid  we'll  none  of  us  stand  any 
chance  after  you've  once  seen  Mr.  Nelson," 
said  Jack  Potts,  with  a  deep  sigh.  "  Good- 
by — I  must  go.  Think  of  me  sometimes 
kindly,  for  I  will  never  forget  you."  He 
took  her  hand  as  before,  and  this  time  kissed 
it  gallantly  in  addition  to  the  pressure,  and 
as  he  looked  at  her  for  a  final  moment  be- 
fore he  let  it  drop  there  was  the  same  bold 
significance  in  his  eyes,  under  which  hers 
sank,  while  a  vivid  blush  overspread  her 
face. 

"  Did  Mr.  Chance  ever  make  you  blush  ? ' ' 
he  asked,  in  a  low  voice. 

"No,"  she  replied,  with  averted  looks, 
"  nor  any  other  feller.  I  don't  like  it." 

Mr.  Potts  laughed  contentedly,  and  in  an- 
other moment  was  gone.  The  Red  Devil, 
was  in  a  particularly  devilish  mood  after  two 
days  in  the  stable,  and  quite  refused  at  first 
to  submit  to  his  new  master's  requirements, 
but  walked  about  on  his  hind  legs,  to  Miss 
Roray's  extreme  delight.  Mr.  Potts  was 


174        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

evidently  an  expert  horseman,  however,  and 
soon  had  him  in  hand,  and  then  set  off  at  a 
strong  gallop  towards  the  western  sun.  Jer- 
roray  watched  them  with  her  nose  flattened 
against  the  kitchen  window,  until  they  were 
too  far  away  and  the  sun  too  dazzling  for 
her  to  see  them  longer.  Then  she  sat  down 
on  the  wash-bench  and  clasped  her  hands 
about  her  knee,  and  looked  at  the  old  Irish 
woman,  comfortably  making  pies  in  the  clut- 
tered, messy  kitchen. 

"  Biddy,"  said  the  young  lady,  "  so  much 
never  happened  to  me  in  all  my  life  before 
as  has  happened  in  the  last  twenty-four 
hours. ' ' 

"  Mercy  on  us  !  You  don't  say  so  !  "  ex- 
claimed Biddy.  She  had  spent  ten  of  the 
more  impressionable  years  of  her  life  in  New 
England  and  spoke  a  mixed  dialect. 

"  Yes,"  pursued  Jerroray,  "  when  I  went 
away  from  here  yesterday  I  was  engaged  to 
Charley  Shore,  but  I  ain't  engaged  to  him 
any  longer,  and  since  then  I've  met  three 
other  gentlemen  that  I  like  awfully  and — 
and  I  don't  know  which  one  of  them  I'm  in 
love  with." 

"  The  Lord  have  pity  on  us  !  "  exclaimed 
Biddy.  She  had  abandoned  her  pies,  and 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  175 

stood  with  arms  akimbo  and  mouth  ajar,  lis- 
tening to  this  extraordinary  heart  history. 

"  Yes,"  pursued  Jerroray,  "  and  I'm  very 
much  in  love,  too,  a  great  deal  more  than 
ever  I  was  with  Charley  Shore,  but  I  can't 
for  the  life  of  me  tell  which  one  it  is." 

"  Might  it  be  any  of  thim  gintlemen  as 
was  here  this  afternoon  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes,  those  two,  and  the  polite  train  rob- 
ber that  held  me  up  last  night.  I  told  you 
how  perfectly  lovely  he  was.  And  this  Mr. 
Chance  was  at  the  ball,  and  he  dances  just 
splendid,  and  I  began  to  think  I  liked  him 
'most  as  well  as  the  train  robber.  And 
Potts  was  on  the  train  this  mornin',  and  I 
liked  him,  too — he  was  so  awful  fascinatin' 
and  funny  I  almost  thought  he  was  nicer 'n 
Chance  even.  But  then  they  all  seemed  to 
think  Chance  was  Tom  Nelson,  so  if  he  was 
two  of  'em  that  settled  it — I  was  in  love 
with  him  sure.  But  now  it  looks  as  if  he 
ain't  Nelson,  and  I  like  Potts  better'n  bet- 
ter— he's  got  such  an  awful  takin'  way  with 
him.  But  Nelson  himself  may  turn  up 
any  time,  and  perhaps  he'll  be  best  of  all. 
So  I'm  just  as  mixed  as  I  can  be,  Biddy, 
and  I  don't  know  what  to  do.  What's 
the  fun  of  bein'  in  love  if  you  don't  know 


176       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

who  it's  with  ?  I  call  it  right  down  tantal- 
izinV 

"  So  it  is,  Jerry,  so  it  is.  But  I  don't  see 
how  you  can  do  anythin'  but  wait  for  some- 
thin'  to  straighten  it  out  for  ye.  An'  if  one 
of  'em  does  turn  out  to  be  yer  train  robber, 
too,  why,  then  that'll  settle  it  best  of  any 
way. ' ' 

"I'm  afraid  there's  no  such  luck,"  said 
Jerroray,  with  a  deep  sigh.  "And  it's  so 
tryin'  not  to  know.  You  can't  tell  which 
you  want  to  be  nicest  to — you  can't  play 
any  one  of  'em  straight.  I  don't  believe 
a  girl  ever  had  three  such  elegant  gentlemen- 
friends  all  at  once.  Say,  Biddy,  let  me  help 
you  make  pies  and  see  if  that  won't  clear 
my  mind  up.  Give  me  a  big  apron  and  let 
me  have  the  rollin'  pin." 

Thus,  when  the  sheriff  and  his  posse  ar- 
rived a  few  minutes  later  they  found  the  sher- 
iffs daughter  so  deeply  engaged  in  culinary 
pursuits  that  she  paid  scant  attention  to  their 
request  for  information  about  Mr.  Chance. 

"  Chance  ?  Oh,  he  went  off  ever  so  long 
ago." 

"  Which  way  ?     How  long  ago  ?  ' ' 

"  Oh,  half  an  hour  or  an  hour  ago  or  so. 
Which  way  did  he  go,  Biddy? " 


A  CHOICE  OF  THREE  177 

Biddy  hadn't  noticed :  she  was  bakin' 
pies. 

"You'll  have  to  ask  Ernest.  What  you 
want  him  for,  anyway  ?  Goin'  to  give  him 
a  dinner-party  ?  I'll  contribute  a  strawberry 
pie  to  the  entertainment."  And  Jerroray, 
balancing  a  pie  on  her  hand,  laughed  in  her 
father's  face  with  an  exasperating  impudence 
which  appeared  to  gratify  her  parent  quite 
as  much  as  the  most  filial  deference  could 
have  done. 

"I  knew  she  wouldn't  tell  on  him,"  he 
said  proudly  to  his  attendants.  "Jerry's 
always  dead  game." 


CHAPTER   X 

THE    DEN    OF    THIEVES 

Tom  Nome's  spirits  rose  higher  and 
higher  the  farther  he  rode  over  the  wide 
prairie  and  the  more  he  fell  in  with  the  swing 
of  Folly's  elastic,  measured  stride.  He  was 
completely  in  love  with  the  beautiful  mare 
before  he  had  gone  half  a  mile,  and  leaned 
forward  often  and  patted  her  glistening, 
slender  neck.  Miss  Folly  only  tossed  her 
head,  however,  at  these  demonstrations  of 
regard,  and  abated  her  gallop  not  one  jot. 
She  did  condescend  to  turn  one  clean-cut 
little  ear  backwards  to  gather  up  the  honeyed 
words  that  Tom  poured  into  it,  but  there 
was  a  scornful  look  the  while  in  her  big, 
soft  eye,  as  if  she  would  say  to  him,  "  You 
must  be  a  fool  to  think  I  like  anyone  but  my 
own  master  to  make  love  to  me.  You're 
just  wasting  your  words,  Mr.  Chance,  of 
Nebraska,  but  if  it  amuses  you  it  certainly 
doesn't  hurt  me,  and  you  really  have  rather 


THE  DEN  OF  THIEVES  179 

a  pleasant  hand  on  my  mouth.  So  long  as 
you  don't  jerk  me  we'll  be  friendly,  at  least. 
It's  something  in  your  favor  that  you  should 
know  enough  to  appreciate  that  I'm  one 
horse  in  ten  thousand,  as  you  just  remarked." 
Tom  judged  that  they  were  going  at  the 
rate  of  a  mile  in  three  minutes,  and  when  ten 
minutes  had  passed  drew  the  mare  up  and 
took  a  survey  of  the  horizon.  Ahead  was  a 
range  of  mountains,  softening  gradually  in  the 
afternoon  light  and  apparently  not  very  far 
away,  while  around  him  lay  the  great  stretch 
of  prairie,  rolling  a  little  as  he  rode  over  it, 
but  looking  in  the  distance  as  level  as  a  sum- 
mer sea.  The  Roray  mansion  and  the  little 
town  behind  it  seemed  still  very  near,  but  he 
was  already  familiar  with  the  curious  decep- 
tions of  the  atmosphere  on  these  high  plains, 
and  this  did  not  disturb  him.  No  one  was 
in  sight  in  his  pursuit,  or  anywhere  else  on 
the  prairie.  He  loosened  his  hand  on  the 
curb  still  more,  pressed  his  heels  gently 
against  Folly's  sides  and  started  her  off  again. 
She  gave  her  head  a  little  toss  and  the  rein 
a  pull,  as  if  in  celebration  of  the  extra  free- 
dom allowed  her,  and  walked  along  a  few 
moments  with  alert,  forward  ears,  looking 
first  to  the  one  side  and  then  to  the  other. 


i8o        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  That's  it,  you  beauty,"  murmured  Tom, 
encouragingly.  "  Make  a  good  choice  of 
your  road  and  then  stick  to  it." 

Folly  had  now  apparently  made  up  her 
mind,  and  the  decision  seemed  to  awaken  in 
it  joyous  anticipations  or  reminiscences,  for 
with  a  wide,  low  shake  of  her  head,  which 
expressed  complete  abandonment  to  delight, 
and  implicated  her  heels  in  a  smart  little 
sympathetic  kick-up,  she  set  off  again,  this 
time  on  a  most  inspiriting,  fast  trot,  which 
covered  the  ground  quite  as  rapidly  as  her 
previous  gallop.  She  had  changed  their 
direction  a  good  deal  more  toward  the  south, 
and  Tom  noticed  that  she  hardly  deviated 
at  all  from  it,  though  with  no  evident  path 
to  guide  her.  He  saw  at  considerable  dis- 
tances as  they  sped  along  one  or  two  lonely 
ranches,  and  once  they  had  to  skirt  a  bit  of 
high  wire  fence,  but  they  saw  not  a  single 
human  being,  far  or  near.  Folly  allowed 
herself  a  five  minutes'  walk  after  half  an  hour 
or  more  of  steady  trotting,  and  then  went  on 
at  a  somewhat  less  rapid  gait,  though  with 
no  evidence  of  diminished  spirits  or  inter- 
est. 

Tom's  excitement  was  now  a  little  cooled, 
and  he  began  to  review  the  events  of  the 


THE  DEN  OF  THIEVES  181 

last  few  hours,  to  wonder  what  was  going  to 
happen  to  him,  and  to  ask  himself  if  he 
should  really  go  on  and  let  Folly  take  him 
to  the  destination  she  was  bent  on.  He 
might  so  easily  get  out  of  the  State  instead, 
thus  escaping  his  danger  altogether.  He  let 
his  thoughts  run  on  as  to  how  he  could 
safely  get  the  mare  back  to  Jack  Potts  if  he 
did  that  and  to  what  he  should  then  do  with 
himself;  but  in  the  midst  of  his  plans  he 
had  a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling,  which 
turned  him  right-about-face. 

"  The  idea  of  giving  it  up  now  !  "  he  said 
to  himself.  ' '  That  would  be  a  crazy  thing 
to  do  !  Here  I  am  well  in  for  a  bona-fide 
adventure,  with  half  a  dozen  mysteries  at- 
tached and  unlimited  future  possibilities. 
Get  out  of  it  ?  Not  much !  No  matter 
what  the  danger  I  may  be  running  into,  I 
must  go  on  now  to  satisfy  my  curiosity,  if 
for  nothing  else.  There  are  so  many  things 
to  be  elucidated.  In  the  first  place,  what  on 
earth  made  these  idiots  think  me  Tom  Nel- 
son ?  And  then  why  should  Jack  Potts, 
after  six  hours'  acquaintance,  care  to  take 
the  trouble  to  get  me  out  of  their  clutches  ? 
Perhaps  he  thinks  I'm  Tom  Nelson,  too,  in 
spite  of  his  saying  I  wasn't.  By  George, 


182        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

that  must  be  it  !  "  and  Tom  found  much 
corroboration  for  this  theory  as  he  ran  in  his 
mind  over  all  that  had  happened,  and  re- 
membered Mr.  Potts's  peculiar  and  persist- 
ent smile. 

"  He  seemed  taken  with  Jerroray — greatly 
taken.  Possibly  he  just  wished  to  get  me 
out  of  her  way.  But  then  how  in  the  devil 
did  he  have  this  clever  beast  so  handy  ?  He 
can't  keep  horses  in  every  town  he  visits. 
Could  the  Keaches,  with  their  names  all 
parted  in  the  middle,  have  got  the  nag  for 
him?"  And  Tom  befogged  his  brain  in 
vain  attempts  to  explain  Mr.  Jack  Potts  and 
his  abundant  resources,  equine  and  otherwise. 
"  Folly's  been  this  road  many  a  time  before, 
or  she'd  not  go  it  so  true  and  steady.  Oh, 
you  pretty  blackbird,"  he  said  to  her  in  a 
caressing  voice,  "  if  I  knew  all  you  know  I 
should  be  a  good  deal  wiser  than  I  am. ' ' 

He  looked  his  pistols  over  carefully,  and 
congratulated  himself  on  having  lately  ac- 
quired the  habit  of  wearing  them.  He  tore 
his  mutilated  handkerchief  into  shreds  and 
left  it  on  the  plain  behind  him,  while  he  re- 
garded with  a  grimace  one  of  the  substitutes 
he  had  purchased  in  Aurora.  He  remem- 
bered his  "  boiled  shirts"  in  the  extension 


THE   DEN  OF  THIEVES  183 

bag  at  the  hotel,  each  with  a  neat  red  T.  N. 
on  the  tab  in  front.  "  What  a  fool  I  was  to 
travel  around  with  such  give-aways  as  that ! 
Anyhow  there's  not  an  initial  on  my  present 
outfit,  and  nothing  to  make  Tom  Nelson,  if 
he  met  me,  think  I  had  $700  aboard.  And 
I'm  not  a  half  bad  shot  with  the  revolver,  as 
my  competitors  found  in  the  late  shooting 
match  at  Titus  City ;  and,  besides,  not 
really  caring  a  cent  what  may  happen  to  me, 
I  sha'n't  be  nervous.  And  if  my  being  taken 
for  Tom  Nelson  could  by  any  possibility  end 
in  my  making  that  gentleman's  acquaintance 
— well,  I'd  ask  nothing  better.  Hurrah  for 
Folly !  "  he  suddenly  shouted  aloud,  wav- 
ing his  hat  over  his  head.  "  Wisdom  to  the 
wall  forever  !  ' ' 

Folly  took  these  demonstrations  as  an  in- 
dication that  more  speed  was  required  of 
her,  and  leaped  into  a  run  in  about  a  sec- 
ond's time.  Tom  had  never  ridden  so  fast 
in  his  life,  and  he  held  his  breath  with  de- 
light in  it.  "  Gently,  my  bird — gently, 
my  beauty,"  he  said,  drawing  her  up  at  last. 
"  Don't  wind  yourself,  for  so  far  as  I  can 
see  we  aren't  getting  anywhere  at  all,  and 
you've  still  a f good  deal  of  a  road  before 
you." 


1 84       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

The  mountains  ahead,  which  looked  so 
near  at  the  start,  seemed  somehow  scarcely 
any  nearer  yet,  but  a  long  spur  extended 
out  into  the  plain,  parallel  with  Folly's 
route,  detaching  itself  in  more  vivid  color 
from  the  rest  of  the  range,  and  seeming  al- 
most close  enough  to  hit  with  a  stone.  Tom 
calculated,  however,  that  it  was  fully  five 
miles  distant,  if  not  more ;  while  ahead 
there  might  still  be  fifteen  or  twenty  miles 
before  the  plain  gave  way  to  the  mountain. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  dip  in  the  ground,  and 
across  their  path  lay  a  sluggish  stream,  wind- 
ing away  to  the  south.  Folly  quickened 
her  pace  and  made  straight  for  the  edge  of 
the  creek,  at  a  spot  where  the  marks  of 
many  hoofs  indicated  a  ford.  They  were 
soon  on  the  other  side,  and  then  the  mare 
turned  almost  at  right  angles  and  went  off 
with  renewed  speed  towards  the  nearer  spur 
of  the  mountains.  No  signs  of  human  life 
were  visible  yet,  even  when  they  were  close 
under  the  edge  of  the  hill,  but  they  struck  a 
trail  which  took  them  up  and  around  it,  and 
brought  them  into  a  wooded  ravine,  and 
then  all  at  once  they  arrived  at  a  camp  and 
were  greeted  by  the  baying  of  a  melancholy 
hound.  Folly  trotted  across  the  rough 


THE  DEN  OF  THIEVES  185 

clearing  to  a  long  shed  that  was  evidently 
her  stable,  and  answered  politely  the  loud 
and  enthusiastic  whinnies  that  saluted  her 
from  within.  In  an  instant  a  man  appeared 
from  another  long,  low  building  above, 
which  had  eight  or  ten  front  doors  opening 
on  a  common  porch.  As  he  slouched  down 
the  hill  Tom  jumped  off  and  stood  waiting 
with  a  pleasant  smile,  but  the  man  neither 
looked  at  him  nor  responded  to  his  greeting. 
He  opened  a  door  and  led  Folly  inside  the 
shed,  where  he  proceeded  to  remove  her 
gear  and  rub  her  down,  leaving  Tom  to  take 
care  of  himself  as  he  might  choose. 

Tom,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
looked  in  at  the  open  door.  "  She  needs 
a  good  rubbing,"  he  said.  "  She's  come  a 
long  distance  splendidly. ' ' 

The  man  only  grunted  in  an  irritated  way, 
and  finally,  when  Tom  followed  up  one  or 
two  similar  observations  with  a  request  to 
be  informed  where  he  should  go,  his  new 
acquaintance  suggested  that  he'd  better  go 
to  hell,  and  be  quick  about  it,  too. 

Thus  admonished,  our  hero  strolled  up 
the  hill,  with  his  eye  watchfully  on  the  long 
cabin,  within  whose  many  front  doors 
seemed  to  lie  infinite  possibilities.  Would 


1 86       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

his  host  be  as  sweet-tempered  as  the  hostler, 
he  wondered,  or  was  the  amiable  hostler 
perhaps  his  host  ?  He  knocked  on  the  first 
door,  and  receiving  no  answer,  moved  on  to 
the  second,  where  his  knock  was  followed 
by  one  grunt,  two  snores,  and  the  sound  of 
a  person  asleep  turning  over  in  bed.  Then 
he  knocked  on  the  third  door,  which  flew 
open,  while  an  indignant  red  head  and  a  re- 
volver appeared.  Tom  began  hurriedly  to 
explain,  but  the  owner  of  the  red  head  was 
evidently  no  more  interested  in  his  conver- 
sation than  the  other  man  had  been. 

"Pete — I  say,  Pete!"  he  called  out 
down  the  hill,  and,  on  Pete's  appearance, 

"  Where' d  this  d d  nuisance  come  from, 

and  why  hain't  you  shot  him  ?  " 

"  Come  in  on  the  black  mare  just  now. 
I  don't  shoot  folks  without  orders,"  said 
Pete. 

"  Well,  lock  him  up  in  the  kennel,  then  ; 
he's  bound  to  wake  us  all  up  and  keep  us 
awake.  Fling  him  a  bone  to  keep  him  quiet, 
if  it's  grub  he  wants,  and  we'll  use  him  for  a 
target  bimeby,  when  we're  ready  to  amuse 
ourselves."  The  red  head  was  decorated 
with  a  fiendish  grin  as  it  uttered  these  words, 
and  the  revolver  was  held  so  that  Tom 


THE   DEN  OF  THIEVES  187 

looked  straight  into  its  shining  muzzle. 
He  caught  himself  wondering,  as  he  did  so, 
why  he  was  not  more  alarmed. 

"I'm  only  a  passenger,"  he  observed, 
with  irresponsible  cheerfulness. 

"  And  therefore  to  be  held  up,"  said  the 
red-headed  gentleman,  sententiously. 

"Is  that  the  necessary  order  of  entertain- 
ment ? ' '  Tom  ventured  to  inquire. 

"  What  sort  of  d d  entertainment  do 

you  expect  in  a  Den  of  Thieves  ?  ' '  inquired 
a  bearded  monster,  who  had  apparently  been 
impelled  by  curiosity  to  come  and  look  over 
the  red-headed  man's  shoulder. 

"  Oh — a  Den  of  Thieves,"  said  Tom,  a 
little  weakly. 

"Yes,  a  Den  of  Thieves,"  returned  the 
new-comer,  fiercely.  "  Got  anything  to  say 
to  that  ?  Any  criticisms  to  offer?  Spit  'em 
out  quick  if  you  have. ' ' 

"  Oh,  no — none  at  all — none  at  all,"  said 
Mr.  Norrie,  with  elaborate  politeness.  "  On 
the  contrary,  it  sounds  very  charming — er — 
forty  thieves  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"Never  you  mind  how  many,"  said  the 
bearded  gentleman. 

"  Enough  to  make  you  into  bloomin' 
hash,"  added  the  red -headed  one. 


1 88       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  I  was  only  thinking,"  explained  Tom 
cordially,  "  that  if  they're  all  as  agreeable 
as  you  two  gentlemen,  there  couldn't  be  too 
many.  And  I  was  hoping  I  should  meet 
them  all  as  soon  as  possible.  Of  course  I'm 
excessively  sorry  I  waked  you  up,  but  I 
wouldn't  have  missed  the  pleasure  of  making 
your  acquaintance  for  anything."  Tom 
had  been  gazing  pretty  intently  at  the  re- 
volver so  far,  but  was  conscious,  at  the  same 
time,  of  the  appearance  of  several  other  hu- 
man beings  on  the  porch ;  and  now,  some- 
what accustomed  to  the  perils  of  his  sit- 
uation, allowed  himself  to  look  about.  A 
Chinaman  and  an  albino  boy  regarded  him 
from  one  side,  and  from  the  door  above, 
where  he  had  heard  the  snores,  three  more 
men  had  come  out,  and  were  looking  on 
with  interest. 

"  Don't  scare  worth  a  d — n,  does  he, 
Gully  ?  ' '  said  one  of  these  new-comers,  a 
tall,  hulking,  large-boned  boy. 

"  Well,  he  ain't  quite  such  a  lady  as  he 
looks,"  admitted  the  red-headed  Gully,  un- 
cocking his  pistol,  and  putting  it  in  his  belt. 

"  We'll  put  up  a  show  later  that'll  terror- 
ize him  some,"  threatened  the  black-bearded 
man,  whom  the  others  addressed  as  Snide. 


THE   DEN  OF  THIEVES  189 

"It  don't  agree  with  me  to  be  waked  up, 
and  it  don't  agree  any  better  with  the  d — n 
fool  that  does  it."  Snide  stepped  out  on 
the  porch,  stretched  himself,  and  yawned 
loudly  with  the  abandon  of  a  big  animal. 

The  yawn  proved  infectious,  and  after  the 
others  had  gone  through  the  same  process 
they  all  sat  down  on  the  bench  that  ran 
along  the  porch  and  talked  the  situation 
over.  They  discussed  Tom  and  his  appear- 
ance with  as  much  frankness  as  if  he  hadn't 
been  there,  or  as  if  he  were  a  curiosity  in  a 
cage.  They  pawed  him  over  and  emptied 
his  pockets,  possessing  themselves  of  his  pis- 
tols, his  watch,  and  some  thirty  dollars  in 
his  purse,  while  he  blessed  himself  inward- 
ly for  having  concealed  the  large  amount  of 
ready  money  that  he  carried  in  a  place  be- 
yond their  conjecture. 

"He  don't  wear  no  money  belt,"  de- 
clared Gully,  feeling  of  Tom's  waist  with 
suspicious  care.  "  Guess  he  ain't  blessed 
with  a  large  amount  of  plunks. ' ' 

Gully  had  passed  on  Tom's  wallet,  after 
emptying  all  the  money  out,  to  the  ungainly 
boy,  who  answered  indiscriminately  to  the 
names  of  Baby,  Bub,  Trilby,  Girlie,  and  a 
few  others.  This  engaging  youth  had  since 


igo       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

been  industriously  exploring  the  papers  which 
it  contained,  and  now  gave  a  whoop  of  de- 
light and  waved  Janet's  picture  in  the  air. 
Tom  had  to  endure  the  agony  of  seeing  him 
kiss  it,  press  it  dramatically  to  his  heart,  and 
otherwise  carry  on  with  it  in  a  way  that 
made  Mr.  Norrie  anxious  to  punch  his  head 
in.  The  others  all  admired  it,  and  allowed 
that  she  was  ' '  a  neat  gal, ' '  but  the  obnox- 
ious Trilby  did  not  cease  to  talk  about  it, 
and  produced  it  frequently  from  his  breast 
pocket  for  further  offensive  attentions.  Mr. 
Norrie  forced  himself  to  look  amiable  and 
easy  throughout  this  ordeal,  but  he  regis- 
tered a  vow  that  Trilby  should  pay  well  for 
his  impudence  if  he  ever  got  out  of  his  pres- 
ent predicament.  "  He's  a  heavy  lout," 
thought  Tom,  "  but  he  looks  as  if  he  couldn't 
manage  himself  much  better  than  a  mastiff 
puppy.  Wonder  if  I've  forgotten  how  to 
wrestle?  " 

Tom's  few  attempts  to  join  pleasantly  in 
the  conversation  were  discouraged  with  per- 
emptory suggestions  to  shut  up,  and  not  be 
too  fresh,  enforced  by  still  more  peremptory 
revolvers.  When  he  hoped  to  secure  more 
courteous  treatment  by  telling  them  of  his 
friend,  Mr.  Jack  Potts,  their  hilarity  was 


THE  DEN  OF  THIEVES  191 

great,  and  they  made  an  endless  number  of 
puns  and  jokes,  with  Mr.  Potts's  name  as  a 
basis  and  the  game  of  poker  to  ring  the 
changes  on.  They  represented  themselves 
as  entirely  unacquainted  with  any  Jack  Potts, 
and  were  sure  that  they  didn't  want  him  for 
a  friend,  if  this  was  the  pokerish  sort  of  a 
trick  he  played  on  those  he  loved.  Tom, 
indeed,  looking  on  their  villainous  faces — 
Snide  was  easily  quite  his  ideal  of  a  mur- 
derer and  a  cut-throat,  and  some  of  the 
others  looked  hardly  less  evil — began  seri- 
ously to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  Mr.  Potts's 
intentions,  and  to  wonder  a  little  forlornly 
what  would  be  the  outcome  of  the  great 
trust  he  had  reposed  in  that  perfidious  gen- 
tleman. His  possession  of  the  black  mare, 
and  the  black  mare's  bee  line  from  Aurora 
to  the  Den  of  Thieves,  were  more  than  ever 
unfathomable  mysteries  in  the  light  of  his 
not  being  himself  known  in  that  attractive 
resort.  On  a  sudden  impulse  he  asked  whose 
horse  Folly  was,  but  regretted  it  bitterly 
when  at  once  they  greeted  him  with  cheers 
as  a  jolly  horse  thief. 

"  Say,  ain't  you  a  little  green,  though  ?  " 
"  She's  your  horse,  ain't  she,  if  you  tuck 
her?" 


192        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  Did  you  shoot  the  man  or  trick  him?  " 

"  Guess  you  knew  where  you  was  comin', 
arter  all,  when  you  made  for  the  Den  of 
Thieves." 

Our  hero  was  immensely  relieved  when 
the  red-eyed  boy  finally  announced  that 
"  breakfus  "  was  ready,  and  they  all  moved 
on  down  the  porch  to  what  they  called  the 
"grub-room,"  where  the  Chinaman  cooked 
and  served  their  meals. 

They  made  a  long  evening  of  it  after  the 
"  breakfast,"  with  plenty  to  drink,  and  Tom 
as  a  butt  for  jokes.  As  they  grew  more  hi- 
larious they  actually  set  him  up  as  a  target, 
and  fired  bullets  around  him  with  great  dex- 
terity. They  were  so  drunk  by  this  time 
that  Tom  was  more  frightened  than  he  had 
been  at  all,  but  he  managed  to  conceal  his 
emotions  under  a  fairly  cool  manner,  and 
they  soon  tired  of  the  pursuit.  At  last,  real- 
izing perhaps,  that  they  were  not  in  the 
best  condition  to  guard  him,  they  gave  the 
grim  Pete  orders  to  put  him  to  bed,  and  Tom 
turned  in  in  the  "  kennel,"  which  was  by  no 
means  so  bad  as  its  name,  with  a  great  sense 
of  thankfulness  that  he  still  kept  a  whole 
skin. 

Among   other  valuable   accomplishments 


THE  DEN  OF  THIEVES  193 

acquired  since  he  had  so  suddenly  retired 
from  business,  Mr.  Norrie  had  learned  to 
sleep  well,  and  in  spite  of  the  ticklishness  of 
his  situation  and  the  great  racket  set  up  by 
the  merry-makers  close  by,  he  was  off  in  a 
very  few  minutes.  His  long  ride  across  the 
plains  and  the  late  hour  of  the  ball  at  Bud 
only  the  night  before,  though  it  seemed  to 
him  a  week  since,  contributed  to  keep  him 
from  being  troubled  by  insomnia,  and  it  was 
thus  high  noon  before  he  awoke  the  next 
day. 

The  stout  door  of  the  kennel,  which  Pete 
had  locked  as  he  left  him,  now  stood  open, 
and  there  was  a  pleasant  hum  of  insects  and 
twitter  of  birds  in  the  warm  sunshine  out- 
side. Our  hero  was  wide  awake  in  an  in- 
stant, recalling  all  that  happened  the  pre- 
vious night,  and  at  once  got  up  and  looked 
warily  out  on  the  porch.  With  a  thrill  of 
joy  he  saw  Jack  Potts  calmly  sitting  there 
and  smoking  his  pipe.  Down  the  hill  Pete 
was  rubbing  off  one  horse,  while  several 
others  stood  about  in  the  shade,  switching 
their  tails,  and  at  the  kitchen  end  of  the 
cabin  the  Chinaman  and  the  boy  were  mov- 
ing in  and  out  about  their  domestic  la- 
bors. No  one  else  was  visible,  though  a 
13 


194       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

sound  of  voices  came  from  one  of  the  rooms 
beyond. 

Jack  Potts  suddenly  heard  something,  and 
turned  quickly.  "  Oh,  it's  you,"  he  said. 
"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Chance.  Want  some 
breakfast  first,  or  a  pipe  ?  " 

"  I  had  my  breakfast  at  five  o'clock  tea 
last  night,"  said  Tom,  sitting  down  on  the 
edge  of  the  porch. 

"And  prefer  to  dine  on  the  following 
day?  Well,  Yung  Wun's  getting  dinner  for 
us  all,  so  that'll  just  suit.  You  look  happy." 

"  I  feel  so,"  said  Tom.  "  I  was  never  so 
glad  to  see  anybody  in  my  life." 

Mr.  Potts  smiled.  "  How'd  you  like 
Tom  Nelson  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"Tom  Nelson?"  said  Tom  Norrie, 
aghast.  "  I  haven't  seen  Tom  Nelson." 

"Sure  of  that?"  asked  Jack  Potts, 
calmly. 

"Good  Lord!  he  can't  be  one  of  those 
villains  that  entertained  me  last  night  !  " 

"Think  not?  What  did  they  do  to 
you?" 

Mr.  Chance,  of  Nebraska,  narrated  feel- 
ingly his  experiences  in  the  Den  of  Thieves, 
while  Jack  Potts  continued  to  smile. 

"And  you   didn't  recognize  Tom  Nel- 


THE  DEN  OF  THIEVES  195 

son?"  he  asked.  "I  supposed  you'd  see 
through  his  disguise  the  first  thing." 

Tom  was  thoroughly  puzzled.  Gully  ? 
Snide?  Trilby?  The  others?  None  of  them 
could  be  Tom  Nelson.  Wild  thoughts  even 
came  into  his  head  of  the  Chinaman  and  the 
albino  boy. 

"  Well,  if  you  care  anything  about  meet- 
in'  Mr.  Nelson,"  continued  Jack  Potts,  "he 
was  in  that  room  yonder  a  few  minutes  ago. 
You'd  better  go  along  and  inquire  for  him. 
He's  been  told  of  the  interest  you  take  in 
him,  and  he's  much  flattered." 

Tom  rose  a  little  reluctantly.  Now  that 
he  was  so  near  the  object  of  his  desire 
he  suddenly  felt  that  it  was  all  very  flat. 
"Won't  you  come  along  and  introduce 
me  ?  "  he  asked,  but  Jack  Potts  shook  his 
head. 

"  Tom  Nelson  is  an  old  story  to  me,"  he 
said,  "  and  I'm  very  comfortable  here." 

So  Tom  walked  along  the  porch  and  in  at 
the  open  door  which  Mr.  Potts  had  signified. 
Snide  was  sitting  there  alone,  his  feet  on  the 
table  and  a  pipe  in  his  mouth. 

"  Hullo,"  he  said  to  himself  reflectively, 
"  here's  the  bloomin'  target  again.  Wonder 
what  he  wants  ?  ' ' 


1 96       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  I  want  to  see  Tom  Nelson,"  said  Tom. 

"  Well  I've  no  objections.  See  him  all 
you  want  to  ?  " 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  I  can  find  him  ?  " 

"  I  dessay  I  could — if  I  wanted  to.  Tain't 
against  the  law  to  look  for  him,"  and  Snide 
pointed  over  his  shoulder  with  his  thumb  to 
a  door  opening  into  the  room  beyond. 

Tom  passed  through  it,  and  came  upon  the 
boy,  Gully,  and  Button,  one  of  the  other 
men,  playing  at  poker,  while  the  fifth  mem- 
ber of  the  gang,  known  as  Jinks,  or,  if  you 
wished  to  be  especially  polite,  High  Jinks, 
was  visible  in  the  next  room,  sound  asleep 
on  one  of  the  so-called  beds. 

"  Good -morning,"  said  Tom,  politely. 

"Oh — goodby,"  responded  Gully  with 
equal  urbanity. 

"  Is — is  Tom  Nelson  here  ?  "  asked  Tom, 
feeling  flatter  than  ever. 

"  Didn't  you  hear  what  Gully  said  ?  "  de- 
manded Trilby  with  an  ugly  frown.  "  We're 
havin'  a  quiet  little  game  and  don't  want  to 
be  interrupted." 

"  Jack  Potts  told  me  to  look  in  here  for 
Tom  Nelson,"  said  Tom,  even  more  weakly, 
but  returning  Trilby's  frown  with  one  equal- 
ly malignant.  He  felt  a  strong  desire  to 


THE  DEN  OF  THIEVES  197 

pitch  the  ungainly  boy  out  of  the  door,  only 
that  at  this  moment  the  figure  of  Mr.  Potts 
appeared  in  it. 

"  Always  do  as  yer  bid  ?  "  inquired  Trilby 
offensively,  unsuspicious  of  his  danger. 

"  An  who's  this  yer  Jack  Potts  you're  for- 
ever talkin'  about?  "  demanded  Gully.  "  I'm 
sick  of  him,  I  am.  We  don't  know  no  Potts 
round  here,  and  we  don't  want  to.  You  just 
shut  up  on  Potts  from  now  on. ' ' 

"Gully's  sensitive  about  jack-pots,"  ob- 
served Trilby,  with  a  grin.  "  He's  lost  three 
since  we  begun  playin'." 

"  Well,  don't  get  quarrellin'  about  it  the 
way  you  did  last  week,"  suggested  Mr.  Potts. 
"  Another  such  row  as  that  wouldn't  be  very 
good  for  your  health,  Bub,  or  for  Gully's 
either." 

There  was  a  quiet  tone  of  authority  in  Mr. 
Potts's  voice,  and  Bub  looked  sulky  instead  of 
answering  back.  A  sudden  idea  dawned  on 
Tom  Norrie's  mind.  Then  for  about  ten 
seconds  that  organ  was  worked  so  actively  in 
reminiscence  confirmatory  of  the  new  idea 
that  it  would  hardly  be  amiss  to  say  that  his 
brain  whirled. 

"  Great  Heavens  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  And 
to  think  that  it  never  entered  my  head  before. 


198       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

Well,  I  have  been  what  Jerroray  would  call 
a  plumb  idiot !  "  He  looked  at  his  smiling 
friend  in  the  doorway.  "  That's  why  you 
smiled  all  the  time,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"It  was  a  good  enough  joke,  don't  you 
think?" 

"  I  should  rise  to  observe,"  declared  Tom. 
"  Allow  me  to  shake  hands  with  you.  What- 
ever we  may  think  about  the  right  or  wrong 
of  your  profession,  Mr.  Nelson,  your  daring 
and  wit  combined  beat  anything  since  the 
days  of  Robin  Hood,  and  I  am  proud  to 
know  you.  In  short  you  exceed  my  highest 
expectations  !  " 

Tom  Nelson  and  Tom  Norrie  shook  hands 
in  a  most  friendly  manner,  while  the  others 
looked  on,  Snide  having  walked  in  grinning 
from  the  other  room,  and  the  sleeper  being 
wakened  for  the  occasion  with  a  chair  shied 
at  him  by  Gully. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,"  said  Tom  Nelson, 
"havin'  had  your  own  fun  with  Mr.  Chance 
last  night,  suppose  this  morning  you  return 
him  his  property. ' ' 

This  was  done  very  good-naturedly,  until 
it  came  Trilby's  turn,  and  he  sulkily  pro- 
duced the  soiled  photograph. 

"  You  and  I  have  an  account  to  settle," 


THE  DEN  OF  THIEVES  199 

said  Tom.    '"If  I  can't  give  you  a  good 
thrashing  I'll  at  least  have  a  try  at  it." 

"  Bub  needs  one  bad  enough,"  said  Tom 
Nelson,  "  and  I'll  thank  you  if  you  succeed 
in  givin'  it  to  him.  Meanwhile  let's  waive 
all  unpleasantness  and  eat  our  dinner.  Yung 
Wun  announces  that  it's  ready." 


CHAPTER   XI 

A   PRISONER 

Tom  was  an  inmate  of  the  outlaw's  camp 
for  more  than  a  week.  The  fact  that  he  was 
a  prisoner  was  not  made  obvious,  but  he 
knew  well  that  he  should  not  be  allowed  to 
get  away,  and  that  if  he  tried  he  might  pay 
for  the  attempt  with  his  life.  But  his  treat- 
ment at  the  hands  of  Nelson  was  that  of  a 
distinguished  and  congenial  guest.  The  two 
young  men  were  together  almost  continu- 
ously, and  for  the  most  part  out  of  doors, 
while  the  other  members  of  the  gang, 
crowded  in  one  of  the  small  rooms  or 
"caves,"  as  they  called  them,  of  the  den, 
played  poker  from  morning  until  night,  and 
quarrelled  as  they  played. 

Mixed  as  Tom's  feelings  might  be  in  other 
directions,  he  was  in  no  sort  of  doubt  about 
his  liking  for  Tom  Nelson,  and  he  thor- 
oughly enjoyed  this  close  intercourse  with 
him.  To  his  other  charms  Nelson  added 


A  PRISONER  SOI 

that  of  great  candor,  and  related  the  events 
of  his  career  to  our  hero  with  most  gratify- 
ing frankness. 

"  Are  you  going  to  shoot  me  before  you're 
through  with  me?"  inquired  Tom,  "or 
why,  otherwise,  do  you  entrust  me  with  all 
these  damaging  secrets  ?  " 

"  You're  the  first  civilized  bein'  I've  been 
on  intimate  terms  with  for  about  three 
years,  for  one  thing,"  said  Nelson,  "and 
your  appreciative  interest  warms  my  heart. 
For  another  thing,  I  contemplate  retirin' 
from  my  business,  as  you've  done  from 
yours,  and  when  I've  skipped  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  me.  Besides,  I'm  rarely 
mistaken  in  men,  and  I'd  stake  anythin'  on 
your  not  betrayin'  me — even  to  get  your- 
self out  of  a  tight  hole. ' ' 

Tom  Nelson,  by  his  own  account,  was 
the  scapegrace  son  <5f  a  Chicago  million- 
aire and  "self-made"  man.  This  gentle- 
man, having  succeeded  so  admirably,  as  he 
thought,  in  the  manufacture  of  himself,  had 
rendered  his  wife  miserable  for  a  matter  of  a 
quarter  of  a  century  or  so,  in  a  determined 
attempt  to  improve  on  the  handiwork  of 
Providence  and  fashion  her  over  in  his  own 
image.  Failing  quite  in  giving  to  the  poor 


202        YOUR    MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

lady  those  methodical  and  saving  habits  and 
that  hard  singleness  of  mind  to  which  he  at- 
tributed his  great  success,  he  nevertheless  set 
about  the  rearing  of  his  only  son  in  these 
habits  and  this  mind,  according  to  a  cast- 
iron  recipe  made  up  from  his  experience. 
He  was  a  hard  man  and  his  rule  was  hard. 
He  allowed  no  leeway  and  never  overlooked 
a  fault.  Tom,  too  spirited  to  stand  this 
treatment,  ran  away  from  home  at  fourteen, 
but  was  brought  back  after  a  week  or  two  of 
vicissitudinous  freedom,  and  promised  his 
mother,  whom  he  loved,  that  he  would  try 
thereafter  to  bear  everything  for  her  sake, 
and  stay  by  her  as  her  support  and  comfort. 
If  his  mother  had  lived  she  might,  through 
his  love  for  her,  have  made  a  useful  man  of 
him,  for  he  had  undeniable  talents.  But 
she  died  before  he  was  eighteen,  her  heart 
broken  by  the  long  struggle  with  John  Nel- 
son's cold  disapproval.  Tom  and  his  father 
quarrelled  for  three  or  four  years  longer,  un- 
til at  last  Tom  was  expelled  from  Harvard 
in  the  middle  of  his  second  year  there,  and 
then  the  elder  Nelson  broke  entirely  with 
his  son  and  left  him  to  shift  for  himself. 

"  Lucky  day  for  me   when  the  old  skin- 
flint  cast  me  off,"  said  the  outlaw,    having 


A  PRISONER  203 

narrated  the  story  of  his  life  up  to  this  point 
with  full  details.  "  He  used  me  like  a  dog. 
There  weren't  half  a  dozen  fellers  in  Har- 
vard College  whose  fathers  had  so  much 
money  as  mine,  and  there  weren't  half  a 
dozen  fellers  who  had  so  little  to  spend 
themselves.  I  had  to  get  money  by  hook  or 
by  crook,  and,  of  course,  it  led  me  into  bad 
ways.  I  was  always  in  scrapes  from  the 
time  I  was  a  little  tacker,  and  they  were  all 
owing  to  the  fact  that  I  hadn't  money 
enough,  and  was  too  proud  to  admit  that 
my  father  wouldn't  give  it  to  me.  He  kept 
poor  mother  so  tight,  making  her  render  a 
strict  account  of  everything,  that  she  had 
to  falsify  her  accounts  in  order  to  get  me  a 
single  cent.  Dear  old  mother  !  She  was  a 
good  'nought  Christian  to  do  it,  too.  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  her  I'd  be  a  good  deal 
worse  villain  than  I  am.  But  when  the  his- 
torians of  my  career  inquire  into  my  school 
life  in  Chicago,  at  Exeter,  and  finally  at 
Harvard,  they'll  remark  that  anyone  could 
easily  have  foretold  the  end,  for  my  record's 
pretty  black  wherever  I  went.  And  when 
Dad  said  good-by  to  me,  three  years  ago,  I 
supplemented  his  sanctimonious  partin'  ad- 
vice, which  was  all  he  gave  me  to  start  me 


204       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

in  my  tussle  with  ?the  world,  by  breakin' 
into  the  house  the  next  night,  holdin'  him 
up  and  makin'  him  fork  over  the  contents 
of  his  safe.  I  can  tell  you,  the  old  gent  was 
scared  blue  !  I  was  ugly,  and  he  knew  it, 
and  he  didn't  like  the  looks  of  my  revolver, 
so  he  walks  downstairs  in  his  night-shirt, 
without  peepin,'  and  undoes  his  old  safe  and 
meekly  hands  over  the  needful,  and  I  came 
off  into  the  bloomin'  West  with  somethin' 
besides  advice  for  an  outfit.  My  farewell 
present  to  him  was  the  assurance  that  what- 
ever I  did — and  he  agreed  with  me  that  I 
was  likely  to  accomplish  somethin'  pretty 
disgraceful — I'd  do  under  the  name  of  Nel- 
son, and  advertise,  too,  whose  son  I  was, 
and  how  he  used  my  mother.  He's  had 
several  pleasant  little  messages  from  me  since 
in  his  mornin'  paper.  You  know,"  he  de- 
clared with  great  earnestness,  "I'd  like  so 
to  spite  him  the  worst  way  that  I'm  'most 
ready  to  let  myself  be  caught  and  go  to 
jail." 

"That  all  explains,"  said  Tom,  "why 
everybody  knows  your  name — a  circumstance 
that  struck  me  as  peculiar  when  I  first  began 
to  hear  about  you." 

"  Yes,     I'm  a  train  robber  for  somethin' 


A  PRISONER  205 

besides  the  emoluments.  I'm  a  train  robber 
for  revenge — I'm  payin'  back  a  man  I  hate 
for  all  he  did  to  me  and  my  mother, ' '  and 
Mr.  Nelson's  face  wore  an  expression  it  was 
not  pleasant  to  see.  "  The  more  notoriety 
I  can  give  to  the  name  of  Nelson  the  better 
it  suits  me,"  he  went  on,  "  and  you  can  bet 
it's  got  a  lot  in  the  last  three  years.  And 
I've  had  money  enough,  too,  for  the  first 

time  in  my  life,  and  had  a  d d  good 

time  out  of  it.  I'll  miss  the  fun  and  excite- 
ment when  I've  given  it  up,"  he  added, 
with  a  sigh.  "I  know  I  sha'n't  enjoy  a 
blameless  life." 

Tom  laughed.  "Is  that  the  necessary 
program  ?  "  he  asked.  "  And  why  ?  " 

Tom  Nelson  sighed  still  more  deeply. 
"  Spoons  on  a  girl,"  he  said.  "  Can't  ask 
her  to  go  into  this  business  with  me." 

"  Pity  it  isn't  Jerroray,"  said  Tom. 
"  She'd  be  delighted  with  the  business,  and 
would  like  nothing  better  than  to  go  train 
robbing  on  her  wedding  tour  !  " 

"  Think  so?  "  said  the  other  Tom  care- 
lessly. 

"  Well,  you  ought  to  have  heard  her  talk 
about  you  that  night  at  Bud,  if  you  doubt 
it.  And  you  know  when  you  joined  our 


206        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

afternoon  tea  with  the  announcement  that  I 
was  suspected  of  being  the  great  Mr.  Nel- 
son, she  grew  sweet  on  me  in  no  time.  She 
squeezed  my  hand  on  the  back  steps,  and 
I've  felt  ever  since  that  I  lost  one  of  the  op- 
portunities of  my  life  in  not  kissing  her.  I 
know  she  would  have  let  me  do  it." 

"  You  hadn't  any  time  to  spare,"  ob- 
served Mr.  Nelson,  as  if  the  conversation 
didn't  interest  him  much. 

"  But  she'd  be  very  nice  sweet  kissing  all 
the  same,"  persisted  Tom.  "I  never  saw 
a  complexion  like  hers — she  looks  luscious 
enough  to  eat. ' ' 

"How  about  the  girl  in  the  photograph 
for  whose  sake  you  wiped  up  the  corral  with 
Bub  and  yourself  alternately,  and  got  your- 
self that  superior  black  eye  ?  ' ' 

"Well,  I  licked  the  odious  Infant,"  de- 
clared Tom. 

"  Yes — but  how  about  the  girl  ?  " 

"Oh,  she's  dark,"  said  Tom.  "Dark 
women  never  have  complexions  like  Jerro- 
ray's — or  light  ones,  either,  for  that  mat- 
ter." 

"  But  you  like  her,  don't  you  ?  Else  why 
should  you  smash  poor  Bub  into  such  a 
jelly?" 


A  PRISONER  207 

"I'd  have  smashed  Bub  all  the  same  if  it 
had  been  a  girl  I  didn't  know.  He's  the 
most  obnoxious  young  man  I  ever  met. 
Nothing  ever  happened  to  me  that  did  me  so 
much  good  as  beating  him.  I  was  afraid  he 
was  too  heavy  for  me." 

"  So  he  was,"  said  the  outlaw,  "  but  you 
had  the  most  brains.  You  beat  him  by 
brains.  It  was  a  fine  thing  to  see. ' ' 

Tom  smiled  with  pleasure  at  this  tribute. 

"  I  wish  that  girl  could  have  seen  it," 
added  Nelson,  artfully.  "  She'd  have  liked 
you  then,  even  if  you  don't  like  her." 

"Ah,  no,  that's  just  the  trouble,"  said 
Tom,  gloomily,  falling  into  the  trap.  "  I 
like  her  much  better  than  she  likes  me. ' ' 

"  Oh,  pooh — she's  foolin'  you,  as  girls  al- 
ways do,"  said  Mr.  Nelson.  "She  couldn't 
help  likin'  you." 

Whereupon  our  hero,  as  his  astute  friend 
desired,  told  him  all  about  Janet  and  his  late 
sad  experience  with  her,  and  found  it  de- 
lightful to  unburden  his  heart  to  so  sympa- 
thetic a  listener.  "  I've  never  spoken  of 
this  to  a  soul  before,"  he  said.  "I  don't 
know  why  I  should  tell  you." 

"  Because  I  wanted  so  much  to  know," 
said  Tom  Nelson,  with  sudden  hilarity. 


208        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"You've  made  me  a  very  happy  man.  I 
was  afraid  you  were  my  serious  rival  with 
Jerroray,  but  you  can't  be  in  love  with  two 
girls  at  once. ' ' 

Tom  rose  gravely  and  shook  hands  with 
Nelson.  "  I  offer  you  my  congratulations 
on  having  placed  your  affections  upon  one  of 
the  most  interesting  and  attractive  young 
women  I  ever  met,"  he  said.  "And  since 
you  are  really  Tom  Nelson,  as  well  as  the 
agreeable  Jack  Potts,  you  will  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  winning  her,  for  her  heart  is  roman- 
tic and  her  imagination  is  greatly  fired  by 
your  exploits.  And  I  venture  to  predict 
that,  however  tame  and  blameless  a  life  you 
may  lead,  with  Jerroray  as  a  companion  you 
will  never  find  it  insipid.  Boredom  could 
not  exist  alongside  her.  And  in  twenty  years 
she  will  be  even  handsomer  than  she  is  now. ' ' 

Nelson  returned  his  handshake  with  feel- 
ing. "  This  does  my  heart  good,"  he  said. 
"  She  is  a  peach — now  isn't  she  ?  " 

"She's  a  most  superlative  peach,"  de- 
clared Tom.  "  A  California  peach,  a  peach 
of  the  finest  bloom  and  rarest  flavor.  I  envy 
you  unspeakably  its  lifelong  consumption  !  " 
Tom  Nelson  stared  at  him  upon  this  last  re- 
mark. "  But — but  the  other  girl  ?  ' ' 


A  PRISONER  209 

"  If  I  could  have  won  Jerroray  I  should 
have  forgotten  the  other  girl  in  five  min- 
utes," said  Tom  Norrie,  very  gloomily.  For 
the  time  being  he  actually  thought  it.  All 
the  possible  embarrassments  of  marriage  to 
Jerroray  vanished  from  his  mind,,  and  he 
dwelt  with  regret  upon  her  abundant  charms. 
Janet — well,  Janet  was  far  away,  and  had 
jilted  him  besides.  And  then  she  was  too 
staid,  too  Eastern,  to  live  the  Bohemian  life 
he  meant  to  live  hereafter,  and  it  would  just 
have  suited  Jerroray.  And  Jerroray  liked 
him,  too.  By  an  ardent  pursuit  he  might 
perhaps  have  turned  that  liking  into  some- 
thing more  tender  and  more  deep.  How 
adorable  it  would  have  been  to  be  the  ob- 
ject of  her  frank  and  artless  affection  !  He 
felt  himself  a  blighted  being  in  good  earnest 
and  sentimentally  gloated  in  it,  as  all  gen- 
uine blighted  beings  must  ever  do.  But  it 
was  eminently  in  accord  with  the  novel  sit- 
uation in  which  he  found  himself  that  he 
should  chivalrously  resign  his  pretensions  in 
favor  of  the  robber  lord,  who,  if  not  his 
feudal  superior,  was  certainly  his  superior  in 
arms  and  equipment  and  an  excellent  fellow 
to  boot.  "  It  is  better  that  you  should  have 
her,"  he  said,  generously.  "You  are  more 
14 


2io       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

fitted  to  make  her  happy."  This  original 
sentiment  pleased  him.  He  remembered 
that  in  plays  the  villain  always  said  it  to  the 
hero  in  the  last  act,  and  was  glad  that  he 
happened  to  think  of  it  so  appropriately. 
"  I  suppose  you'll  have  a  church  wedding  at 
Aurora  and  the  Terror  to  give  his  daughter 
away?  "  he  asked  with  courageous  cheerful- 
ness. 

"I  prefer  quiet  weddin's,"  said  Nelson, 
with  a  smile.  "  I  don't  think  we'll  ask  the 
sheriff." 

"I  hope  it  may  be  soon,"  said  Tom. 
"  She  must  get  herself  a  superior  wedding 
present  with  the  stakes  of  our  wager,  for 
you've  won  not  only  that,  but  everything 
else — half  a  dozen  jack-pots  to  bless  your 
lucky  choice  of  a  name. ' ' 

"  You  know  that  wager  wasn't  fair,"  said 
Mr.  Nelson.  "  If  it  had  been  arranged  the 
ordinary  way  I  should  have  given  you  back 
your  money,  of  course. ' ' 

"  I'd  far  rather  the  bride  should  have  it," 
said  Tom. 

"  It's  funny  the  change  of  f«elin'  I  went 
through  about  you,"  continued  Nelson,  in 
a  reminiscent  tone.  "  I  haven't  told  you 
what  a  narrow  escape  you  had.  I  don't 


A  PRISONER  211 

quite  know  that  I  want  to  now  even,  for 
since  I  know  you  and  like  you  so  well  it 

seems  a  d d  snide  trick  to  have  thought 

of  playin'  on  you." 

But  Tom's  curiosity  was  strongly  roused, 
and  he  became  so  urgent  in  his  petitions  for 
information  that  presently  the  outlaw  began 
to  tell  his  tale,  his  countenance  decorated 
with  the  little  characteristic  smile  of  inward 
amusement  that  from  the  first  Tom  had 
found  so  attractive.  And  as  he  went  on  in 
his  narrative  of  the  events  of  the  last  two 
days  our  hero  listened  with  a  more  and  more 
absorbed  attention,  becoming  painfully  aware 
of  how  much  may  be  happening  about  the 
ears  of  complacent  simplicity  and  never 
even  be  suspected  thereby.  And  yet  he  had 
thought  himself  so  sharp  ! 

It  seemed  that  Nelson  had  a  taste  for 
knowing  what  people  thought  about  him,  no 
matter  how  dangerous  the  pursuit  of  such 
knowledge  might  be.  Four  times  had  he 
made  trips  through  Rising  Sun  and  Creosote 
Counties  in  his  character  of  a  jewelry  drum- 
mer— once  before  his  career  as  an  outlaw 
opened,  once  directly  after  the  first  hold-up, 
and  the  third  time  a  fortnight  later.  His 
adventures  had  been  picturesque,  and  he 


212        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

had  overheard  or  joined  in  very  entertaining 
conversations  anent  Mr.  Nelson  and  his  ex- 
ploits. He  had  amused  himself  by  artlessly 
fostering  the  incipient  tendency  to  "  take 
pride  "  in  that  noted  outlaw,  and  had  seized 
eagerly  at  the  excellent  chance  he  saw  to 
make  the  train  robber  a  popular  character 
with  the  masses.  Like  an  actor,  he  had 
learned  from  the  people  themselves  where 
he  could  best  make  his  "points  "  with  them, 
and  had  put  in  practice  cleverly  all  the  sug- 
gestions they  innocently  gave  him. 

His  arrival  at  Bud  the  morning  after  the 
ball,  however,  following  so  soon  upon  his 
last  visit  there,  and  thus  likely  to  arouse  sus- 
picion in  the  minds  of  reflecting  men,  had 
there  been  any  men  at  all  given  to  reflection, 
was  brought  about  solely  by  an  interest  in 
Miss  Roray.  The  ingenuous  humor  of  her 
appeal  to  him  when  he  held  her  up,  had 
entertained  him  greatly,  and  the  more  he 
thought  about  her  the  more  anxious  he  was 
to  have  another  glimpse  of  her  and  see  if  she 
were  really  so  attractive  and  original  as  she 
seemed.  But  before  he  saw  her  again  he 
had  seen  Tom,  in  the  office  of  the  Empire 
Hotel — as  heretofore  narrated. 

"  I  suppose  you  haven't  frequented  post- 


A  PRISONER  213 

offices  much  out  here  ?  "  he  asked,  sudden- 
ly, at  this  juncture. 

"  No,  I  haven't  been  in  one  that  I  know 
of.  Why  ?  ' '  counter-questioned  Tom  Nor- 
rie,  carelessly. 

"  I  thought  you  weren't  aware  that  your 
family  and  friends  have  advertised  you  as 
'disappeared,'  giving  a  full  description  of 
you,  of  course,  and  offering  a  reward  for  in- 
formation about  you." 

Our  hero  emitted  an  ejaculation  of  sur- 
prise and  disgust. 

"  At  least,  it's  in  the  one  at  Bud,  where 
I  'ad  just  been  that  mornin',  and  with  my 
accustomed  curiosity  I  had  happened  to 
read  it  through.  I  noticed  that  you  had 
disappeared  over  ten  days  before  the  first  of 
our  robberies,  which  somehow  struck  me  as 
an  interestin'  fact,  and  that  you  'ad  been  at 
Harvard  two  or  three  years  before  I  was. 
And  when  I  saw  you  half  an  hour  later  in 
the  hotel  office  at  Bud  I  suspected  in  an 
instant  that  you  were  Thomas  Norrie,  Jr., 
even  before  I  saw  the  initials  on  yonr  hand- 
kerchief. As  you  may  remember,  my  back 
was  turned  when  you  came  into  the  room, 
and  so  I  heard  you  speak  before  I  saw  you. 
Your  voice  was  so  like  my  father's,  and  also 


214       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

as  I  knew,  like  my  own,  that  it  startled  me. 
While  you  talked  with  Dicker  I  stared  at 
you,  awestruck  with  the  fatality  of  the  whole 
thing.  We  didn't  look  alike  in  face,  but 
we  were  almost  identical  in  size  and  phy- 
sique— and  as  no  one,  of  course,  had  seen 
Tom  Nelson's  face  there  was  absolutely  no 
obstacle  that  I  could  see  to  palmin'  you  off 
as  myself.  The  jealousy  of  Mr.  Shore  and 
the  other  young  men  over  your  success 
with  the  fair .  Jerry  helped  me  out  won- 
derfully, and  there  wasn't  a  man  in  the 
car  didn't  feel  sure  you  were  I  by  the  time 
we  reached  Aurora.  It  was  the  quickest 
and  neatest  thing  in  the  world,  a  perfect 
train  of  circumstantial  evidence,  and  you 
as  innocent  of  it  all  as  an  infant !  In 
short,  there  was  only  one  out  in  the  whole 
thing." 

"And  what,  pray,  was  that?"  inquired 
Tom,  dryly. 

"  The  fact  that  I'd  taken  a  most  untimely 
and  inconvenient  shine  to  you,"  declared 
Nelson.  "  If  it  hadn't  been  for  that,  you'd 
now  be  languishin'  in  Aurora  jail,  with 
state-prison  before  you." 

"Oh,  hardly,"  protested  Tom.  "They 
could  never  have  convicted  me,  you  know. 


A  PRISONER  215 

My  people  would  have  come  on  to  identify 
me." 

"  But  your  people  hadn't  seen  you  since 
the  25th  of  April,  and  our  first  hold-up 
didn't  take  place  till  the  6th  of  May." 

"  But  I  was  somewhere  else  on  the  6th  of 
May." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Nelson.  "But  could 
you  prove  it  satisfactorily  to  any  jury?" 
He  pointed  out  succinctly  to  Mr.  Norrie 
the  inborn  distrust  of  the  Western  juryman 
for  alibis,  and  reminded  him  of  the  unprom- 
ising character  of  his  associates  since  he  had 
come  from  the  East,  which  would  make  it  the 
more  easy  to  suspect  that  their  testimony 
had  been  bought  for  the  occasion.  And 
when  he  asked  Tom  if  he  remembered  where 
he  was,  and  the  names  of  the  men  he  was 
with  on  the  three  important  dates,  Tom  was 
surprised  to  find  how  hazy  was  his  recollec- 
tion of  details. 

But  in  spite  of  his  being  obliged  thus  to 
admit  that  he  had  had  rather  a  narrow 
squeak  of  it,  his  sentiments  towards  the  out- 
law were  entirely  of  gratitude  for  his  having 
saved  him  rather  than  of  resentment  for  his 
getting  him  into  such  a  scrape.  In  short, 
Tom  Nelson  was  a  man  of  great  fascination, 


216       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

and  Tom  Norrie  found  it  far  easier  to  like 
him  and  succumb  to  his  charm  than  to  dis- 
approve of  him  and  resist.  It  seemed  in- 
deed impossible  to  disapprove  of  so  light- 
hearted  and  gay  a  villain,  on  whom  his  vil- 
lainy sat  with  so  gracious  an  air  of  irre- 
sponsible youth.  Tom  often  wondered 
about  it,  and  finally  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  reason  he  could  not  think  of  him 
as  a  bad  man,  was  that  the  outlaw  did  not 
think  of  himself  as  one.  He  simply  had  no 
moral  sense.  The  fact  that  the  world,  as 
represented  by  his  father,  had  used  him 
hard,  was  in  his  mind  excuse  enough  for  all 
that  he  cared  to  do  in  retaliation.  Circum- 
stances had  made  him  a  train  robber  and  he 
got  great  fun  out  of  his  risky  profession, 
while  his  conscience  slept  so  peacefully  that 
Tom  was  inclined  to  argue  that  he  hadn't 
any.  As  Tom  had  somehow  felt  in  his  smile 
and  the  tone  of  his  voice,  the  first  morning 
that  he  saw  him,  all  life  was  merely  an  enter- 
taining joke  to  him,  and  it  was  by  no  means 
the  poorest  part  of  the  joke  to  hold  up  train 
after  train  in  exactly  the  same  region,  to 
travel  about  in  the  most  reckless  way  imag- 
inable and  never  to  get  caught.  And  there 
could  be  no  more  fitting  wind-up  to  the  joke 


A  PRISONER  217 

than  to  marry  the  sheriffs  daughter  under 
the  sheriffs  very  nose  and  leave  for  parts 
unknown — which,  it  seemed,  was  Mr.  Nel- 
son's present  program  if  he  could  secure 
the  lady's  consent. 

Nor  could  Tom  anticipate  shipwreck  for 
this  extraordinary  marriage,  should  it  ever  be 
"  arranged."  In  the  first  place,  how  could 
two  people,  each  so  unusually  attractive, 
ever  fall  out  of  love  with  each  other,  having 
once  fallen  in  ?  And  if  this  logic  were  dis- 
proved by  the  notorious  facts  of  matrimo- 
ny, there  were  two  even,  easy  tempers,  two 
excellent  common  senses,  and  two  superior 
senses  of  humor  to  fall  back  upon.  They 
would  have  such  a  good  time,  such  a  jolly 
time,  all  the  time,  that  there  would  never  be 
any  leisure  time  in  which  to  repent.  Nor 
would  matrimony  lose  its  charm  in  settled 
domesticity — they  could  not  be  domestic  or 
settled  if  they  tried.  Bohemia  would  always 
claim  them  for  its  own,  and  impart  to  their 
roving  manage — it  was  sure  to  be  roving — 
its  own  delicious  touch  of  eternal  youth. 
Mossiness  might  be  picturesque  on  rocks  and 
stones,  thought  Tom,  but  surely  on  human 
beings  it  was  generally  synonymous  with  dull 
priggishness  and  narrow  minds,  and  that 


218        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

fatal  flavor  of  bread  and  butter  which  he 
hated  more  than  anything  else.  For  his 
own  daily  food  the  human  rolling-stones, 
with  all  these  accumulations  of  settled  con- 
ventional prejudice  knocked  off  by  contact 
with  the  world,  and  their  corners  and  excre- 
scences smoothed  down  into  comfortable 
livableness,  were  the  apples  of  gold  and  sil- 
ver, and  his  ideal  of  what  he  wished  himself 
to  be  to  others.  He  looked  back  upon  the 
man  he  had  been,  only  a  few  short  weeks 
before,  when  Janet  had  jilted  him,  and  did 
not  wonder  at  what  she  had  done.  He, 
too,  jilted  that  gone-by  Tom  Norrie ;  but 
the  new  one,  with  a  new  philosophy  of  life, 
or  rather  an  old  philosophy  long  dimly  ap- 
prehended, but  only  now  put  into  practice, 
was  not  half  a  bad  sort  of  fellow.  "  Could 
Janet  ever  be  made  to  think  so?  "  he  asked 
himself,  and  mournfully  shook  his  head. 

Another  hold-up  occurred  while  Tom 
Norrie  was  residing  at  the  Den  of  Thieves. 
Three  of  the  gang  rode  off  one  morning, 
and  Nelson  with  the  other  two  departed  in 
the  afternoon.  Pete,  silent  and  irritable  as 
ever,  became  omnipresent  after  they  had 
gone,  and  Tom  found  it  impossible  to 
get  out  of  his  sight.  He  submitted  quietly 


A  PRISONER  219 

to  this  espionage,  and  was  locked  into  the 
kennel  as  usual  at  bedtime. 

But  though  not  taken  into  Mr.  Nelson's 
confidence  beforehand,  he  was  told  all  about 
the  affair  the  next  day.  It  had  been  a  more 
than  usually  successful  and  also  a  more  than 
usually  exciting  raid.  The  train  was  a 
through  express  from  the  East,  with  some 
rich  travellers  on  it,  and  there  had  been 
many  amusing  incidents  of  their  unwilling- 
ness to  part  with  their  belongings. 

Among  other  such  tales  Nelson  related  the 
following: — "There  were  several  pretty 
girls  aboard,  but  one  in  partic'lar  that  could 
see  'em  all  and  go  'em  easily  ten  or  twenty 
better,  and  she  was  as  plucky  as  she  was 
pretty,  and  mad  clear  through.  You  ought 
to  have  seen  her  eyes  flash  at  me.  '  Your 
money  or  your  life,'  I  says  very  politely. 
'I'll  give  you  nothin','  says  she.  'Any- 
thing you  want  of  mine  you'll  take  by  main 
force  or  not  at  all.'  So  I  proceeded,  as 
gently  as  possible,  to  take  possession  of  a 
small  satchel  she  carried,  which  proved  to 
have  a  lot  of  money  and  jewelry  in  it.  She 
didn't  struggle  a  bit,  but  simply  hung  on, 
and  looked  all  the  time  straight  at  me,  with 
set  lips  and  a  big  frown.  '  I  never  wished 


220       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

I  was  a  man  before, '  says  she,  '  and  if  I  had 
my  revolver  here  I  wouldn't  now.'  'Can 
you  shoot  straight?'  says  I.  'I'd  be  very 
glad  to  show  you  if  you'd  lend  me  your 
pistol  and  act  as  a  target  ? '  she  answered, 
quick  as  flash.  '  On  the  whole  I'm  afraid 
it  wouldn't  be  quite  safe/  says  I.  'Some- 
how you  look  as  if  you'd  hit,  and  I  don't 
think  I  care  to  be  hit  to-day.  But  if  ever 

we  should  meet  again '  '  We  will  meet 

again,  I  hope,  and  in  a  court  of  law,'  says 
she,  '  and  I'll  be  a  good  witness  for  the 
prosecution.'  The  old  lady  with  her  tried 
to  stop  her  all  the  time,  loadin'  me  down 
with  her  own  belongin's  and  tryin'  to  get 
round  me  and  smooth  things  over,  but  the 
girl's  blood  was  up,  and  she  had  to  speak 
her  mind.  I  liked  her  for  it,  too.  Folks 
seem  to  think  courage  is  all  for  the  men,  but 
it  seems  to  me  it  suits  women  just  as  well. 
None  of  your  shrinkin'  little  misses  for  me  !  " 

"The  modern  girl  never  shrinks,"  ob- 
served Mr.  Norrie. 

Tom  Nelson  was  a  born  story-teller  and 
went  on  with  his  yarns  until  Tom  Norrie's 
spirit  was  thoroughly  fired. 

"  By  George,  it  must  be  fun,"  he  said, 
spontaneously.  "  I  wish  I'd  been  there  !  " 


A  PRISONER  221 

Nelson  turned  quickly.  ' '  Do  you  really  ? ' ' 
he  asked.  "If  I'd  known  that  I'd  have 
taken  you.  I  was  afraid  you  had  scruples." 

"Well,  so  I  have,  I  suppose,"  laughed 
Tom.  "  But  I  must  say  I  wouldn't  mind 
looking  on  and  participating  in  the  fun — 
though  not  in  the  boodle. ' ' 

"I'd  like  you  to  see  a  hold-up  in  our 
best  style,"  said  the  outlaw,  with  a  note  of 
reflection  in  his  voice.  "  I  had  sort  of  an 
idea  we'd  make  this  the  last,  but  hang  it  all, 
it's  such  good  fun  that  I  always  want  one 
more  try  before  I  give  it  up.  I'll  have  an- 
other, too,  and  take  you  along,  be  d d  if 

I  won't." 

"Oh,  come,"  said  Tom,  "don't  make 
me  responsible.  I  don't  want  you  to  hold 
up  trains  to  entertain  me." 

"  Don't  you  worry.  It's  me  that's  doin' 
it,  and  I'm  glad  of  any  excuse  for  it,"  said 
Nelson.  "It's  like  gamblin' — there's  so 
much  risk  in  it  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  to 
let  it  alone." 

"It  is  gambling,"  said  Tom  Norrie; 
"  gambling  with  your  own  life  for  the  stake 
and  the  world  against  you." 

They  were  both  quiet  for  some  minutes 
after  this.  Tom  thought  perhaps  the  outlaw 


222        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

was  considering  the  situation  seriously  at 
last,  but  when  he  finally  broke  the  silence  it 
was  with  a  wholly  irrelevant  question. 

"  By  the  way,  you  didn't  show  me  the 
picture  of  your  girl  the  other  day.  I  was 
just  goin'  to  ask  you  for  it  when — well — we 
began  talkin'  about  Jerroray  and  I  forgot  it, 
to  tell  the  plain  truth.  Do  you  mind  lettin' 
me  look  at  her  ?  ' ' 

"No,  indeed,"  said  Tom,  producing  the 
picture. 

"  She  is  a  good-lookin'  girl,"  exclaimed 
the  outlaw.  "  Fine  color,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Tom,  "  she  has  a  good  deal 
of  color." 

"Tall,  too?" 

"  Yes — how  did  you  know  ?  " 

"  She  looks  it — a  girl  so  spirited  as  that 
ought  to  be  tall,  sure.  I  like  her  looks  a  lot. 
She's  worth  fightin'  for,  and  I  shouldn't 
think  you'd  ever  get  licked  while  you  had 
her  to  think  about." 

"  It  does  make  a  difference,"  admitted 
Tom.  "  If  I  was  licked  I'd  hate  her  to 
know  it,  and  somehow  that  puts  staying 
power  into  you,  and  makes  you  win  in  the 
end,  even  if  you  are  overmatched." 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE  PROOF   OF  COURAGE 

Three  or  four  days  after  this,  Snide, 
Trilby,  and  Button  mounted  their  horses  in 
the  morning  and  rode  away.  Tom's  sus- 
picions were  quickly  aroused,  and  he  was 
not  surprised  when  Tom  Nelson  suggested 
to  him  later  that  he  should  get  himself  ready 
for  a  trip. 

"  Is  it  positively  your  last  appearance  in 
the  role  of  train  robber?"  he  asked.  Nel- 
son nodded.  "  Just  let  me  have  your  guns, 
please,"  he  said. 

"  My  pistols  ?  What  for  ?  "  asked  Tom, 
alarmed. 

"  You're  to  go  with  us  as  a  prisoner — not 
as  an  accomplice,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Nelson. 
"  Then  if  you  should  be  caught,  bein'  un- 
armed would  be  so  much  in  your  favor.  It 
simply  relieves  you  of  all  responsibility  and 
you  can  enjoy  yourself  with  a  free  heart — 
see?" 


224       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

Tom  saw,  but  nevertheless  felt  uncomfort- 
able with  no  means  of  defence,  and  wished 
he  had  kept  his  pistols. 

They  set  out  late  in  the  afternoon,  and 
riding  slowly  but  steadily  for  four  or  five 
hours,  made  a  halt  finally  in  a  curious  sort 
of  bowl  dropped  down  between  the  rolling 
hills  of  the  prairie,  where  the  horses  of  the 
other  three  men  awaited  them  with  glad 
whinnies  of  greeting.  The  flat  bottom  of 
the  place  was  some  twenty  feet  in  diameter, 
while  the  rise  of  ground  about  it  was  hardly 
higher  than  its  width.  On  three  sides  it  was 
precipitously  steep,  but  in  the  fourth  direc- 
tion there  was  a  gradual  slope,  down  which 
they  rode.  They  picketed  their  horses, 
rubbed  them  down  and  fed  them,  Tom  doing 
what  he  saw  the  others  do.  The  night  was 
clear,  but  moonless  and  dark.  They  worked 
by  the  light  of  a  single  small  lantern,  hung 
up  on  a  short  stake  in  the  centre  of  the  bowl, 
and  around  this  feeble  luminary,  when  the 
horses  were  attended  to,  they  took  their  hur- 
ried meal,  which  Gully  had  brought  in  a 
knapsack.  Each  man  had  a  stiff  drink  of 
whiskey  to  put  heart  into  him,  as  Nelson  ex- 
pressed it,  though  Tom  noticed  that  as  usual 
he  took  none  himself. 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  225 

"  The  thing  itself  is  stimulus  enough  to 
me,"  he  said  in  an  undertone,  answering 
Tom's  thought. 

Before  they  left  the  place  the  saddles  and 
bridles  were  put  on  all  the  horses  again, 
though  some  of  them  had  not  yet  finished 
their  feed. 

"  We  may  be  in  a  hurry  when  we  come 
back,"  said  the  outlaw,  significantly.  "  Be- 
sides the  bits  will  keep  'em  from  eatin"  too 
fast  and  gettin'  indigestion." 

They  climbed  up  the  sides  of  the  bowl  and 
walked  along  for  three  or  four  minutes,  Tom 
taking  observations  of  the  stars  to  aid  him 
in  keeping  the  direction  back  to  the  horses. 
He  stayed  by  Nelson's  side,  in  hopes  of  hav- 
ing the  plan  of  action  more  or  less  explained 
to  him,  but  the  leader  of  the  gang  was 
thoughtful  and  distraught,  and  nothing  was 
said  until  they  reached  the  railroad  track. 
The  dark  prairie  stretched  away  on  every 
side,  crossed  by  this  ribbon  of  track,  which 
was  the  only  sign  of  human  occupation. 
There  were  no  lights  anywhere  below  to 
answer  to  those  above  in  the  deep  blue  dome 
of  the  sky.  In  the  veiling  shadows  all  the 
unevennesses  of  the  plain  were  lost,  and  it 
seemed  as  flat  as  a  great  floor. 
15 


226       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

Tom's  heart  began  to  beat  with  the  sense 
of  mystery  and  excitement  that  grew  upon 
him  in  the  silent  waiting.  He  thought  of 
the  train  speeding  toward  them,  miles  away, 
along  this  iron  track,  and  it  seemed  for  the 
moment  impossible,  unreal,  that  he  should 
be  there  with  a  band  of  desperate  men  ready 
to  waylay  it.  Then  it  became  terribly  real, 
and  he  shuddered  involuntarily  at  the 
thought  of  the  deed  he  was  about  to  witness, 
even  though  he  took  no  part  in  it. 

"  Sorry  you  came  ?  "  asked  Nelson  at  his 
elbow.  "  You  can't  go  back  now,  you 
know. ' ' 

"I  don't  want  to  go  back,"  said  Tom, 
stoutly,  "  though  I  will  confess  that  just  at 
present  train  robbing  doesn't  seem  to  me  so 
amusing  a  pursuit  as  it  did. ' ' 

"  You  ought  to  thank  me,  then,  for  takin' 
away  your  shootin'  irons." 

"I  do,  indeed,"  said  Tom.  "It's  well 
enough  to  look  on — but  I'm  pretty  glad  on 
the  whole  I'm  not  to  bear  a  hand  in  it." 

"  Piety  in  your  blood,"  observed  the  out- 
law, cheerfully.  "  I  had  some  in  mine,  too, 
to  start  with — but  I  got  rid  of  it  handily. 
The  train's  due  in  about  ten  minutes,"  he 
added,  after  a  little,  looking  at  his  watch. 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  227 

"You'll  stay  outside,  of  course.  Remem- 
ber you're  a  prisoner,  and  under  Jinks's 
charge.  If  you  try  to  make  off  he'll  be 
likely  to  shoot  you. ' ' 

"  Well,  I  sha'n't  try,"  said  Tom.  "  But 
aren't  there  any  signals  I  ought  to  know  or 
anything?" 

"The  danger  signal  is  three  rapid  pistol 
shots." 

"But  I've  no  pistol." 

"  Three  anything  then — three  yells,  three 
whistles,  three  stones  through  a  car  window. 
But  we've  never  had  to  use  a  danger  signal 
yet,  and,  besides,  if  you  used  it  you'd  be 
aidin'  and  abettin'  us." 

"  That's  my  lookout.  If  the  odious  Tril- 
by were  to  give  you  away,  I'd  be  the  first  to 
want  to  aid  and  abet  you. ' ' 

"  Trilby's  not  so  bad  as  you  think." 

"He's  a  thief  without  honor,"  declared 
Tom  Norrie,  "and  when  it  suits  his  con- 
venience to  go  back  on  you  he'll  do  it." 

"  Do  you  see  the  headlight  ?  "  asked  Nel- 
son, suddenly.  "  Look  sharp,  boys  !  " 

He  and  Gully  took  their  places,  one  on 
each  side  of  the  track,  while  Jinks  turned  on 
the  lantern,  which  he  had  brought  from  the 
bowl,  and  gave  a  signal  to  the  approaching 


228       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

train,  which  he  repeated  at  rapid  intervals. 
Tom,  standing  close  beside  him,  saw  that  he 
now  wore  a  black  mask,  and  looking  quickly 
towards  the  other  two  distinguished  the  same 
sinister  disguise,  as  they  were  shown  up  from 
moment  to  moment  by  the  small  light  in  the 
midst  of  the  great  darkness.  It  seemed  hours 
to  him  before  the  train  could  be  heard,  and 
hours  again  before  the  first  distant  rumble 
grew  into  the  immense  engulfing  roar  which 
bore  down  upon  them,  filling  their  ears  and 
seeming  to  annihilate  them.  And  those 
hours,  which  were  in  truth  but  a  few  brief 
moments,  showed  him  how  closely  excite- 
ment is  akin  to  fear.  He  trembled  violently, 
and  his  heart  beat  so  quickly  and  so  fast  that 
it  almost  suffocated  him ;  he  felt  that  he 
could  hear  its  beating  even  above  the  great 
brazen  clamor  of  the  locomotive,  as  it  drew 
up  and  stopped,  with  a  heavy  jar,  just  be- 
yond him,  and  stood  there  panting  and 
steaming  like  a  live  creature,  its  great  heart 
throbbing  like  his  own. 

Then  in  another  instant  this  suffocating 
excitement,  which  had  been  so  like  terror 
that  he  felt  a  mere  motion  on  the  part  of 
one  of  the  others  would  make  him  stampede 
in  an  uncontrollable  panic,  left  him  com- 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  229 

pletely.  His  mind  became  clear  and  alert, 
and  he  saw  everything  that  happened.  Snide 
had  the  engineer  and  fireman  under  full  con- 
trol. Button  appeared  to  be  in  possession 
of  the  express  car,  and  Trilby  followed  the 
conductor  out  of  the  smoker  and  stood  on 
the  platform  with  him  as  the  train  drew  up. 
A  moment  later  he  had  both  revolvers 
drawn,  one  held  at  the  conductor's  head  and 
the  other  pointed  down  the  length  of  the  car. 
This  seemed  to  indicate  a  clear  field  to  the 
outlaw  and  his  gang.  Gully  leaped  into  the 
express  car,  while  Nelson,  followed  by  Trilby, 
went  through  the  smoker. 

Jinks  moved  on  down  the  train  on  the  out- 
side, with  a  revolver  in  each  hand,  firing 
shots  in  at  the  windows  and  doors,  killing  no 
one,  but  effectually  scaring  everybody.  He 
kept  Tom  with  him,  driving  him  under  the 
cars,  or  up  over  the  platforms  ahead  of  him, 
as  he  crossed  from  side  to  side,  emphasizing 
all  his  orders  with  a  very  reckless  and  alarm- 
ing use  of  his  firearms.  The  train  was  a 
long  one.  Tom  became  conscious  suddenly 
of  movements  at  the  farther  end.  Beyond 
the  brightly  lighted  passenger  coaches  there 
was  a  dark,  shadowy  mass  like  a  freight  car. 

"Jinks,"  he  said,  suddenly,   "there's  a 


230        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

horse  down  there,  coming  out  of  that  last 
car." 

Jinks  swore  a  great  oath  of  disbelief,  but 
a  moment  later  was  convinced.  "  By  God  ! 
the  sheriff  and  his  posse  !  "  he  cried  out,  and 
let  off  three  quick  shots  from  his  revolver. 
"  For  the  horses,"  he  said  to  Tom,  "  and 
each  man  for  himself.  He  rushed  to  tell 
Snide  what  had  happened,  and  then  struck 
out  across  the  prairie,  while  Tom  lingered  a 
moment  to  watch  Snide  ordering  the  engi- 
neer and  fireman  to  start  up  the  locomotive, 
with  threats  of  blowing  their  brains  out  if 
they  refused.  He  saw  Button  leap  out  of 
one  of  the  cars,  and  then  in  another  mo- 
ment Nelson,  farther  down,  and  staying  for 
no  more,  put  off  like  them  at  top  speed  for 
the  horses.  He  fell  twice  at  full  length, 
and  when  he  reached  the  bowl  went  head- 
long down  the  steep  side,  and  was  set  on 
his  feet  by  Jinks,  who,  reaching  the  place 
first,  had  unpicketed  most  of  the  horses. 
The  four  of  them  were  mounted  in  a  mo- 
ment." 

"You  three  ride  along,"  said  Nelson. 
"  Keep  together  and  get  out  of  the  way  as 
fast  as  you  can.  I'll  wait  for  the  others." 

The   other   two   made   off  without  more 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  231 

ado,  but  Tom  remained.  "  I'd  rather  stay 
with  you,"  he  explained. 

"All  right,"  said  the  outlaw.  "Keep 
quiet. ' '  There  were  sounds  above,  and  then 
Gully's  voice  was  distinguished  in  muttered 
oaths  as  he  slid  down  the  incline. 

"Snide  and  Bub  behind  you?"  asked 
Nelson. 

"Reckon  so,"  said  Gully,  bestriding  his 
horse,  "and  a  lot  of  men  and  horses, 
too!" 

"  They'll  not  find  us  in  here — or  if  they 
do  they'll  break  their  necks,"  said  Nelson. 
"You'd  better  be  off.  I'll  wait  a  bit  longer. 
The  boys' 11  have  a  close  squeak  of  it  if  they 
don't  hurry." 

Gully  was  off,  and  Snide  appeared  at  the 
same  moment.  Snide  had  seen  nothing  of 
Trilby,  and,  suggesting  that  he  might  have 
gone  back  on  them,  advised  leaving  his 
horse  picketed  in  the  bowl  and  saving  their 
own  skins  while  there  was  yet  time.  Nelson 
agreed  to  this  plan  as  the  sound  of  many 
galloping  feet  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and 
then  the  three  set  off  at  full  speed,  with 
eight  or  ten  horses  in  close  pursuit  behind. 
They  rode  abreast  in  silence,  while  Tom 
realized  that  Nelson,  whose  mare  could  easily 


232        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

distance  the  others,  was  holding  her  in  to 
keep  with  them. 

"Their  horses  are  d d  fresh,"  said 

Snide.  "They'll  gain  on  us  soon,  if  they 
ain't  already." 

"Then  we'll  all  go  to  jail  together,"  re- 
plied Nelson,  cheerfully. 

His  good  faith  throughout,  and  this  un- 
daunted spirit  appealed  to  Tom  powerfully. 
He  was  fond  of  him,  too — he  couldn't  bear 
the  thought  of  his  being  caught  and  sent  to 
prison.  An  idea  came  to  him,  and  hardly 
weighing  it,  he  gave  it  quick  utterance. 

"  You  two  ride  on,"  he  said  "I'll  change 
my  course  a  little,  keeping  around  to  the 
left,  and  ride  gradually  slower  and  slower, 
but  lead  them  as  pretty  a  chase  as  I  can.  If 
I  can  get  away  I  will,  but  if  I  can't  it  will 
only  mean  a  short  season  of  trouble  for  me, 
while  for  you  it  might  be  twenty  years'  hard 
labor." 

Nelson  demurred  strongly  at  first,  but 
Tom  was  in  love  with  the  idea  and  urged 
it  warmly.  "  You've  done  me  a  good  turn, 
now  let  me  do  you  one.  It  costs  me  only 
a  few  days  of  confinement,  or  weeks  at  the 
most,  and  it  will  all  be  more  or  less  fun 
for  me.  Come,  there's  no  time  to  lose." 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  233 

"  He's  a  peach,"  declared  Snide.  "Let's 
give  him  his  way,  Cap — he's  got  the  sense 
of  it." 

The  outlaw  yielded.  "You're  a  good 
sort,"  he  said.  "And  mind,  tell  them  the 
straight  story  if  they  catch  you,  without 
trying  to  shield  me — or  Jack  Potts.  It's 
the  only  way.  And  then  trust  in  me  to  the 
bitter  end,  for  however  sure  they  may  be 
that  you're  Tom  Nelson,  I'll  never  let  you 
go  to  prison  in  my  place.  Don't  forget 
that." 

"  I'll  not,"  said  Tom.     "  Good-by." 

Folly  was  off  into  the  darkness  like  a 
shot,  Snide's  nag  making  a  good  second, 
while  Tom's  poor,  faithful  beast,  already  do- 
ing his  utmost,  was  left  quickly  behind.  He 
had  good  courage,  however,  and  did  not 
lose  heart  at  the  desertion  of  his  comrades, 
but  kept  on  resolutely. 

"Good  old  fellow,"  said  Tom.  "You 
do  the  best  you  can,  don't  you?"  He 
pulled  the  animal  around  all  the  time  off  the 
course  of  the  other  fugitives,  though  much 
against  its  will,  and  listening  sharply  behind 
could  distinguish  no  division  of  forces  in 
the  pursuers.  They  were  steadily  gaining 
on  him,  and  it  was  only  a  question  of  brief 


234        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

time  when  they  should  be  up  with  him. 
But  every  minute  was  needed  by  those 
ahead,  so  Tom  kept  on,  demanding  all  the 
speed  his  horse  could  give.  Finally,  when 
the  men  behind  were  near  enough  to  send 
bullets  whizzing  about  his  ears,  he  reined  in 
his  horse  and  let  them  come  up  with  him. 

"Tricked,  by  hell!"  exclaimed  one 
voice. 

"  Where's  the  rest  of  the  d d  crew  ?  " 

said  another. 

They  were  all  about  him  now,  and  one 
man  threw  the  blinding  rays  of  a  dark 
lantern  in  his  face.  "Anyhow,  it's  the 
feller  we  wanted  most,"  he  cried  out  jubi- 
lantly, and  Tom  recognized  the  voice  of  the 
gallant  Mr.  Cutler  Keach. 

"Ah!  Good -evening,  Mr.  Keach,"  he 
said,  urbanely,  holding  out  his  hand.  "  I'm 
glad  we're  to  have  a  chance  to  continue 
that  little  conversation  of  ours." 

"  Good-evenin',  Mr.  Nelson,"  responded 
Mr.  Keach,  somewhat  taken  aback.  "  But 
it's  Marshal  Goslin'  that's  wantin'  the  first 
hack  at  conversin'  with  you.  And  I'll  wait 
until  you  get  your  handcuffs  on  before  I 
shake  hands  with  you,  if  you  don't  mind." 

Tom  easily  turned  the  laugh  that  greeted 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  235 

this  sally,  by  observing  that  if  it  seemed 
more  natural  and  homelike  to  Mr.  Keach 
under  such  circumstances,  he  was  quite  will- 
ing. 

Then  in  his  surprise  at  being  taken  by 
anyone  but  the  sheriff,  he  inquired  for  Mr. 
Roray,  and  learned  that  that  gentleman 
having  been  out  of  town  on  business,  the 
city  marshal  of  Aurora  had  jumped  at  the 
chance  to  earn  distinction  for  himself  by 
capturing  the  notorious  gang  of  train  rob- 
bers in  his  absence. 

"  The  Terror' 11  feel  awful  bad  when  he 
gets  back,"  said  his  informant.  "I  know 
he  wouldn't  'a'  missed  this  scrap  for 
nothin'." 

The  marshal,  meanwhile,  very  much  set 
up  in  his  own  importance  at  having  done  it 
all  without  the  sheriff,  was  holding  a  con- 
sultation with  his  lieutenants,  the  upshot  of 
which  seemed  to  be  that  it  was  too  dark  a 
night  to  push  on  after  the  rest  of  the  gang, 
gone  now  beyond  sight  and  sound. 

"  You're  sure  this  is  Nelson  himself?  "  he 
asked  of  Mr.  Keach,  who  appeared  to  be  his 
chief  adviser. 

"  Let  me  make  you  'quainted  with  Mr. 
Nelson,  Mr.  Goslin',"  said  Mr.  Keach, 


236       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

with  mock  ceremony.  "  What  could  be  a 
more  agreeable  task  than  to  introduce  a  train 
robber  to  the  happy  man  what's  caught 
him?" 

"Well,  if  you' re  Tom  Nelson  I'm  d d 

glad  to  meet  you,"  said  Mr.  Gosling. 

"I'm  not  Tom  Nelson,  unfortunately," 
said  Tom  Norrie,  "  but  I'm  none  the  less 
pleased  to  meet  you  on  that  account." 

"Ho!  "  said  Mr.  Keach,  contemptuous- 
ly. "  Coin'  to  try  to  prove  an  alibi,  are 
you  ?  Caught  red-handed,  and  set  up  '  it 
ain't  me '  for  a  defence  !  " 

"  Well,  Nelson  or  not  Nelson,  he's  all 
we've  got,"  said  the  marshal,  "and  we'd 
better  be  a-gettin'  off  home.  Catchin'  him's 
our  business.  We  ain't  the  ones  to  decide 
who  he  is." 

Tom's  hands  and  feet  were  securely  tied, 
and  then,  while  one  man  led  his  jaded  nag, 
three  others  surrounded  him  as  a  body 
guard.  In  this  way  the  long  and  painful 
ride  was  accomplished,  so  wearisome  to  the 
already  weary  captive  that  he  was  glad  in- 
deed to  see  his  prison  at  last,  just  as  the  first 
faint  streaks  of  dawn  began  to  lighten  the 
blackness  of  the  night. 

"  See  here,  Mr.  Keach,"  he  said  as  the 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  237 

ropes  were  cut  and  he  was  allowed  to  dis- 
mount. "I'm  not  greatly  stuck  on  this 
nag,  but  he's  a  good  old  soul,  and  he'll  be 
pretty  well  done  after  this.  Would  you 
take  him  along  and  have  your  brother  look 
after  him?  I'll  see  he's  paid  for  his 
trouble. ' ' 

Mr.  Keach,  with  a  thrifty  eye  to  business, 
agreed  at  once,  if  he  had  the  marshal's  per- 
mission, and  as  Mr.  Gosling  was  both  sleepy 
and  complaisant  after  the  success  of  his  ex- 
ploit, the  transaction  was  speedily  arranged. 
Tom  stipulated  among  other  things  that  the 
poor  Plunger  should  have  a  bed  to  his  knees, 
and  slept  the  better  himself  on  the  hard 
couch  provided  him  by  the  State,  for  the 
consciousness  that  the  tired  horse  was  well 
cared  for. 

Tom  Norrie,  in  the  excitement  of  the 
moment,  keenly  touched  by  the  outlaw's 
bravery  and  his  faithfulness  to  his  friends, 
had  felt  that  he  was  undertaking  but  a  small 
sacrifice  on  his  behalf.  The  next  day,  or 
rather  only  five  hours  later  the  same  day, 
when  he  was  ruthlessly  waked  up  to  be 
taken  before  the  justice  of  the  peace,  and  in- 
cidentally before  the  wh«le  town,  assembled 
to  a  man  in  the  court-house,  and  when  no 


238       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

one,  during  the  ceremonies  that  followed, 
would  believe  a  word  he  said  on  any  sub- 
ject, and  least  of  all  his  reiterated  statement, 
and,  as  he  thought,  proof,  that  he  was  not 
Tom  Nelson,  the  situation  began  to  look  to 
him  a  little  more  serious.  He  was  not  re- 
quired to  say  anything,  being  informed  so 
officially  by  the  justice,  and  advised  pri- 
vately by  the  friendly  sheriff,  Aurora's  cele- 
brated Terror,  in  whose  charge  he  now 
found  himself,  to  keep  his  mouth  shut 
until  he'd  seen  his  lawyer.  But  he  had 
notions  of  his  own  on  the  subject,  and  pre- 
ferred to  tell  his  story  fully.  With  a  feel- 
ing half  of  mistrust,  half  of  contempt  for  the 
law,  derived  from  several  generations  of 
Quaker  ancestry,  he  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  conduct  his  case  himself,  with  no  aid 
from  the  legal  profession.  Telling  the 
truth,  the  plain  and  entire  truth,  seemed  to 
him  all  that  was  necessary,  and  it  was  sure- 
ly ridiculous  to  get  a  lawyer  to  help  one  do 
that.  But,  to  his  surprise  and  grief,  this 
course  of  simple  honesty  was  not  attended 
with  the  conspicuous  success  that  he  had  an- 
ticipated. He  was  not  immediately  set 
free,  nor  did  the  justice  professionally  un- 
bend, and  congratulate  him  upon  that  noble 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  239 

candor  which  was  more  powerful  than  any 
legal  guile  to  unlock  the  doors  of  his  prison. 

On  the  contrary,  while  all  the  spectators 
were  laughing,  the  justice  preserved  his  own 
dignity  with  some  difficulty,  and  the  legal 
gentlemen  present  did  not  undertake  to  con- 
ceal how  greatly  entertained  they  were  by 
Mr.  Nelson's  tale  of  adventures. 

"  D d  ingenious  cuss,"  said  the  prose- 
cuting officer,  in  an  audible  aside  to  one  of 
the  standers-by.  "  Say,  wouldn't  that  yarn 
take  in  a  dime  novel  ?  Trilby  wouldn't  be 
in  it." 

The  part  of  his  narrative  which  seemed 
specially  to  charm  every  one  was  the  bold 
attempt  throughout  to  cast  suspicion  upon 
the  innocent  Mr.  Potts. 

"  Why,  Jack  Potts,  he's  been  to  the  Pal- 
ace Hotel  off  and  on  two  or  three  months," 
said  J.  Cutler  Keach,  when  he  was  at  liberty 
to  speak  his  mind  to  the  prisoner  after  the 
examination,  and  while  the  officers  in  charge 
of  him  were  awaiting  the  orders  of  the 
sheriff.  "He's  a  mere  lamb,  he  is,  that 
never  lifted  his  finger  to  harm  nobody. 
There  warn't  any  feller  so  hot  on  your  trail 
as  he  was,  and  he  thought  you  was  a  villain 
of  the  deepest  dye.  Guess  he'd  think  so 


240       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

more'n  ever  now  if  he  could  hear  the  way 
you're  a-layin'  mud  over  him." 

Here,  in  exasperation,  Tom  committed  a 
grave  fault  in  tact.  ' '  Jack  Potts  is  a  longer- 
headed  gentleman  than  you  ever  dreamed 
of,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Keach,  a  little  con- 
temptuously. "  Can't  you  see  that  that  was 
his  cue  ? — that  he  was  trying  to  wind  you  up 
in  your  own  conceit  of  your  detective  abil- 
ity, and  was  laughing  at  you  in  his  sleeve 
all  the  time  ?  ' ' 

"  Maybe  I  can  see  that — and  maybe  I  can 
see  what  you're  a-drivin'  at,  too,"  said  Mr. 
Keach,  with  a  large  and  catholic  wink  which 
embraced  all  present.  "  As  for  Mr.  Potts 
he  can  tell  his  own  story  on  the  witness- 
stand." 

"  A  great  lot  you'll  ever  get  him  on  any 
witness-stand,"  said  Tom,  scornfully. 

"Just  you  wait  and  see,"  retorted  Mr. 
Keach. 

"He  won't  have  to  wait  long  either," 
said  Charley  Shore.  "Court  sits  on  Mon- 
day, and  the  Grand  Jury '11  go  to  work  on 
him  right  off." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Keach,  with  a  satisfied 
air.  "  Justice  certainly  is  a-goin'  to  hustle 
for  once. ' ' 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  241 

Returned  under  close  guard  to  the  jail, 
bewildered  by  his  inability  to  persuade  his 
accusers  to  believe  the  simple  truth,  and 
with  a  sense  of  helplessness  and  anxiety 
which  he  could  not  shake  off,  it  was  an  in- 
expressible relief  to  Tom  Norrie  to  behold 
once  more  the  friendly  face,  of  Jerroray.  She 
was  standing  in  the  front  door  of  the  jail,  a 
resplendent  vision  of  flowered  silk  and  white 
lace,  with  a  gauzy  hat  and  a  gauzy  parasol, 
a  "  corsij  bokay  "  and  a  beaming  smile,  and 
Tom's  heart  warmed  to  her  more  than  ever. 

"  Say — you're  in  a  real  bad  fix,  ain't  you  ? 
Well,  I've  got  a  pull,  my  dad  bein'  sheriff, 
and  I've  come  to  sweeten  your  captivity, 
like  the  girls  do  in  stories.  Now  you  men 
can  just  hand  him  over  to  me,"  she  an- 
nounced to  the  officers.  "  The  Terror's 
given  you  his  orders,  and  what  he  says  goes. 
I'm  to  be  jailer  whenever  I  like.  I've 
promised  Terence  I  won't  let  the  prisoner 
get  away,  and  he  knows  my  word's  as  good 
as  his  own.  We're  goin'  to  have  Mrs. 
Jenks's  sittin'  room,  and  you  can  sit  around 
and  watch  in  the  entry  and  under  all  the  win- 
dows if  you  want  to,  though  there  ain't  no 
need  of  it.  Mr.  Chance  is  a  gentleman,  and 
he  ain't  agoin'  to  get  a  lady  into  trouble 
16 


242        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

by  tryin'  to  light  out  when  he's  under  her 
charge — are  you,  Chance?" 

Tom  gave  his  word  emphatically  that  he 
should  make  no  attempt  whatever  to  get 
away,  both  for  Miss  Roray's  sake  and  his 
own,  for,  being  innocent,  he  wished  to  prove 
it  in  open  court.  And  upon  this  declaration, 
supplementing  her  own  previous  ideas  of  his 
integrity  of  character,  Jerroray,  as  her  first 
act  of  authority,  ordered  his  handcuffs  taken 
off. 

The  snug,  cosey  room  of  Mrs.  Jenks  was  a 
prison  -  cell  to  be  dreamed  of  rather  than 
realized,  and  Tom  passed  there  the  greater 
part  of  the  next  few  days  in  the  most  agree- 
able custody  that  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  cap- 
tive man.  The  energetic  friendliness  of  his 
jailer  permitted  no  obstacle  in  the  way  of 
the  completest  comfort  possible  within  his 
prison  bounds.  His  bag  and  belongings  ar- 
rived at  once  from  the  Palace  Hotel,  by  the 
hand  of  G.  Washington  Keach.  His  own 
honeydew  restored  to  him,  the  rubber  pouch 
of  which  in  his  pocket  had  long  been  sadly 
empty,  Tom  was  at  once  a  happier  and  more 
placid  man.  With  the  full  permission  of 
the  gracious  lady,  and  cheered  by  her  genial 
converse  and  informal  manners,  he  smoked 


THE   PROOF  OF  COURAGE  243 

the  long  June  hours  away.  Roses  were  in 
bloom  beneath  the  windows,  the  sun  shone 
and  the  birds  sang,  and  Jerroray  was  no  less 
entertaining  than  she  was  good  to  look  at. 

When  they  were  comfortably  settled  that 
first  afternoon,  quite  to  the  young  lady's  lik- 
ing ;  after  she  had  watched  Tom  eat  a  good 
dinner — a  much  better  dinner  than  he  would 
have  got  had  she  not  interceded  with  Mrs. 
Jenks  before  his  return  from  the  court- 
house; when  with  a  satisfaction  no  less  than 
his  own,  she  had  seen  him  light  his  pipe,  and 
then  made  him  lie  down  on  Mrs.  Jenks' s 
carpet-covered  lounge,  while  she  put  all  the 
pillows  she  could  find  in  behind  him  to  soft- 
en the  acerbities  of  that  piece  of  furniture — 
she  announced  that  she  had  a  few  remarks 
to  make. 

"  Tell  me  that  I'm  to  die  to-morrow,  if 
you  like,"  said  Tom,  in  blissful  accents. 
"  I'm  so  comfortable  that  I  don't  care  what 
happens  to-morrow." 

"  I  do  love  to  see  folks  comfortable,"  said 
Jerroray. 

"And  you  certainly  know  how  to  make 
them  so. " 

"It's  the  way  I  do  to  Terence  when  he's 
fagged.  An'  when  I've  got  him  all  tucked 


244       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

away  on  a  sofy — like  you — then  I  fill  his 
pipe  and  light  it,  and  mix  him  a  whiskey- 
toddy,  and  I  can  tell  you  he  just  purrs  like 
a  cat." 

"I  should  think  he  would,"  said  Tom, 
in  an  injured  tone.  "You  didn't  mix  me 
any  toddy." 

"  Well,  I  will  if  you  want  me  to ;  I  can 
do  'em  awful  good.  I  had  a  gentleman- 
friend  once  was  a  bar-keep,  and  he  taught 
me  lots  of  things.  And  then  the  sheriff 
himself  ain't  any  slouch  on  mixin'  drinks. 
Guess  he  could  give  points  to  some  perfes- 
sionals." 

The  whiskey-toddy  proved  to  be  a  very 
choice  mixture  indeed,  and  if  strong  and  a 
great  lot  of  it,  Tom  reflected  that  at  least  he 
could  spend  the  afternoon  on  its  consump- 
tion. "  You  didn't  make  any  for  yourself," 
he  observed.  "I'll  divvy  with  you." 

"  No,  thanks,  I  don't  indulge.  I'm  will- 
in'  other  folks  should  fuddle  their  brains 
with  the  stuff,  but  I  don't  want  any  in 
mine — especially  now  when  I  propose  to 
give  my  great  head  to  your  case." 

"  Will  you  be  counsel  for  the  defence  ?  " 
asked  Tom,  with  a  laugh.  I'm  sure  you'd 
get  me  off." 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  245 

"  Well,  if  you  want  my  advice,  Chance, 
you've  got  to  tell  me  the  facts — all  of  'em. 
That's  what  I  had  to  say  to  you.  It  ain't 
pryin'  curiosity,  and  you're  at  liberty  not  to 
bleat  a  word,  an'  we'll  just  talk  about  other 
things.  But  if  we're  goin'  to  discuss  your 
situation  at  all,  and  try  to  get  you  out  of 
your  mux,  then  you've  just  got  to  sail  in  an' 
tell  me  the  whole  biz — the  truth  and  nothin' 
but  the  truth.  That's  all.  You  can  take 
your  choice.  An'  you  needn't  be  afraid  I'll 
get  mad  if  you  don't  tell  me." 

"But  I  want  to  tell  you — I'd  rather  tell 
you." 

"  Well,  now,  that's  bang-up — that's  what 
I  like,"  declared  the  young  lady  with  great 
satisfaction.  "To  begin  with  then,  what  is 
your  name  really  ?  ' ' 

"  It's  to  be  a  cross-examination,  is  it?" 
said  Tom.  "  Why  should  you  think  Chance 
isn't  my  name?  Do  you,  too,  imagine  I'm 
Tom  Nelson  ?  ' ' 

"  Potts  said  you  warn't — and  he  talked 
like  he  meant  it." 

"  Oh,  he  told  you  that,  did  he?  Well,  I 
can  guess  why — it  served  his  purpose. ' ' 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  He  didn't  want  you  to  think  me  Tom 


246       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

Nelson  for  fear  that  would  make  you  like  me 
better  than  you  did  him." 

"  Oh  ! But  you  ain't  Tom  Nelson, 

I'm  'most  sure." 

"  I  wish  the  other  people  were  as  sure," 
said  Tom.  "Our  astute  friend,  Mr.  Potts, 
played  his  cards  so  well  that  they'll  none  of 
them  hear  a  word  against  him." 

"  Against  him — you  don't  mean " 

Tom  watched  with  enjoyment  the  light 
beginning  to  dawn  on  Jerroray's  face. 
"Yes,  I  do,"  he  said.  "Hadn't  you 
guessed  ?  You're  as  stupid  as  I  was." 

"  Oh,  my  !  "  she  said,  with  wonder,  awe, 
ecstasy,  love,  admiration  and  pride  com- 
mingled in  that  very  expressive  ejaculation ; 
and  "Oh,  my  !  "  she  repeated  after  a  mo- 
ment, as  if  no  other  form  of  speech  could 
at  all  convey  her  many  and  overwhelming 
emotions. 

"  You  seem  to  like  the  idea,"  said  Tom. 

"  Like  it !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  an  inde- 
scribable wriggle  and  shake  of  her  whole 
person  in  the  endeavor  to  express  how  much 
she  liked  it.  "  Say,  didn't  I  tell  you  he 
was  great  ?  Didn't  I  say  he  was  a  peach  ? 
My  !  He's  just  out  o'  sight !  " 

"  You  don't  ask  for  any  proof — it  seems 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  247 

very  easy  for  you  to  believe  that  he's  Tom 
Nelson." 

"  Course  it  is — it's  exactly  like  him.  I 
only  wonder  I  didn't  know  it  the  minute 
I  laid  eyes  on  him.  Say,  have  you  seen 
him  since  the  day  you  was  up  to  our 
house?" 

"I've  spent  the  whole  week  with  him." 

"  Oh,  my  ! Well,  now  just  you  tell  me 

all  about  him,  every  word  he  said  and  every- 
thing he  did." 

"  But  you're  forgetting  all  about  my  case. 
I  was  a  fool  not  to  pretend  I  was  Tom  Nel- 
son myself." 

"  Well,  you  couldn't  have  worked  the 
racket  anyhow,  if  you'd  a-tried.  And  I'm 
just  as  much  interested  in  your  case  as  ever 
— only  any  infant  could  see  that  the  straight 
way  out  of  it  is  through  Nelson.  So,  just 
you  tell  me  all  about  him." 

Thus  adjured,  Tom  told  the  tale  from  be- 
ginning to  end,  not  even  omitting  what  Nel- 
son had  said  about  retiring  from  his  present 
business,  and  adopting  one  more  compatible 
with  matrimony.  "  But  of  course  you'd 
never  marry  a  train -robber,"  he  observed, 
carelessly. 

"Wouldn't  I?     Just  you   wait  till  I'm 


248       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

asked  !  My!  I'm  so  glad  he's  the  one  after 
all,  and  I  can  play  him  straight  now." 

Tom  made  inquiry  as  to  the  meaning  of 
this  naive  remark,  and  was  greatly  enter- 
tained with  Jerroray's  tale  of  her  tantalizing 
doubts  and  uncertainties  —  now,  however, 
resolved  so  entirely  to  her  mind." 

"  So  you  really  did  like  me  a  little?  "  he 
questioned. 

"  Course  I  did,  and  I  always  will.  And 
you've  behaved  just  grand  about  it  all. 
Lots  o'  fellers  wouldn't  have  told  me  a 
thing,  but  would  just  have  humped  for  'em- 
selves  without  ever  thinkin*  of  my  feelin's 
or  Nelson's.  But  you've  been  just  as  square 
as  a  feller  could  be,  and  I'm  your  friend  for 
life.  Shake." 

This  ceremony  performed,  Tom  continued 
his  narrative  up  to  the  outlaw's  final  prom- 
ise to  stand  by  him  whate'er  befell,  and  get 
him  out  of  any  and  every  difficulty  he  might 
find  himself  in. 

'  <  He'  11  do  it,  too, "  said  Jerroray.  ' '  That 
settles  all  my  worries.  We  needn't  take  any 
trouble.  He'll  get  you  out  of  the  ditch. 
We  can  just  loaf  and  have  as  good  a  time  as 
we  like,  and  not  fret  ourselves. ' ' 

When  Tom  told  her  finally,  however,  of 


THE   PROOF  OF  COURAGE  249 

his  examination  of  the  morning,  and  the 
anxieties  which  had  harassed  him  since,  she 
made  up  her  mind  at  once  that  he  must  have 
as  good  a  lawyer  as  could  be  procured. 

"  Of  course,  you've  got  to  have  a  law- 
yer," she  said.  "  'Tain't  so  much  a  ques- 
tion of  tellin'  lies  or  tellin'  the  truth,  as  how 
you  do  whichever  you  do  do.  Lawyers 
know  how,  and  that's  what  you  pay  'em  for. 
We  want  a  good  one,  and  we  want  him  right 
off.  I'll  go  and  find  out  who's  the  best  man 
can  be  got  down  to  Bloomer — though  I'll 
bet  in  advance  they'll  all  say  Bob  Trout. 
He's  a  daisy  lawyer,  he  is,  and  I  just  admire 
to  hear  him  argue  a  case.  If  I  was  a  jury  I 
couldn't  ever  help  findin'  for  him." 

She  consulted  with  her  father,  and  with 
the  prosecuting  attorney,  set  down  what  they 
said  about  different  legal  lights,  and  brought 
these  data  to  Tom  for  consultation. 

Their  choice,  Colonel  "  Bob  "  Trout,  as 
Jerroray  had  predicted,  and  one  of  the  best- 
known  criminal  lawyers  in  the  State,  arrived 
the  next  day.  He  was  tall,  with  a  hawk 
nose  and  piercing  black  eyes ;  he  wore  a 
very  long-tailed  frock  coat  and  a  silk  hat ; 
but  as  the  hat  was  perched  on  the  back  of 
his  head  and  the  coat  never  buttoned  up,  he 


250       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

failed  of  the  elegance  he  aspired  to.  He 
knew  all  about  the  train  robberies,  and  took 
it  for  granted  from  the  start  that  Tom  was 
the  man  who  had  committed  them.  When 
Tom  finished  his  truthful  tale  of  the  ways 
and  means  by  which  he  had  been  brought  to 
his  present  pass,  Colonel  Trout  said,  briefly  : 

"  Excellent  story — do  very  well  in  the 
main  for  our  defence,  with  some  few  altera- 
tions. Now  tell  me  the  exact  facts.  I  nev- 
er take  a  case  unless  my  client  tells  me  the 
truth." 

In  spite  of  Tom's  protest  that  this  was 
what  he  had  just  done,  and  his  stoutness 
in  holding  to  his  story  through  the  violent 
cross-examination  he  was  at  once  put  to, 
Colonel  Trout  seemed  never  quite  to  aban- 
don his  belief  in  his  client's  guilt.  This  had 
a  depressing  effect  upon  Tom  in  their  con- 
stant association  before  the  trial.  He  re- 
sented the  little  traps  his  counsel  laid  to  catch 
him,  springing  on  him  every  now  and  then  a 
sharp  and  sudden  question,  designed  to  take 
him  unawares  and  make  him  betray  himself. 

And  when  the  colonel  learned  of  what  he 
called  Tom's  crazy  folly  in  telling  his  whole 
story  without  one  reserve  to  the  justice  of 
the  peace,  he  became,  in  his  grief  and  rage, 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  251 

even  more  unpleasant  to  his  client.  His 
feelings  were  almost  too  much  for  words,  he 
explained,  by  way  of  logical  excuse  for  his 
violent  language,  and  Tom  could  not  help 
retorting  that  it  would  have  been  better  if 
they  had  been  quite  too  much. 

"There's  no  use  talking  about  it,"  he 
said,  "  the  thing's  done,  and  I'm  not  sorry. 
It  seems  to  me  we'd  better  devote  ourselves 
to  making  the  best  of  the  situation  as  it  is. ' ' 

The  chief  necessity  of  the  defence,  of 
course,  was  to  prove  alibis  for  Tom  on  the 
dates  of  the  first  four  train  robberies.  He 
had  been  in  the  outlaw's  camp  at  the  time  of 
the  fifth,  and  had  admitted  beyond  recall  his 
presence  at  the  sixth  and  last.  But  if  they 
could  prove  that  he  was  in  Lincoln,  Nebraska, 
when  the  first  one  occurred,  down  in  Beaver 
County  at  the  time  of  the  second,  at  Titus 
City  on  the  date  of  the  third,  and  many  miles 
from  Bud,  on  the  Red  Gulch  road,  on  the 
day  of  the  fourth,  arriving  in  Bud  by  train 
a  full  hour  and  a  half  after  the  hold-up,  the 
case  would  be  two-thirds  won.  Unluckily 
Tom  had  found  no  congenial  companions  on 
the  Red  Gulch  train,  and  it  was  an  even 
chance  that  no  one  would  remember  him 
well  enough  to  be  safe  on  cross-examination. 


252        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

Moreover,  on  laboriously  counting  back, 
he  was  not  himself  certain  whether  he  had 
left  Lincoln  on  the  6th  or  yth  of  May,  and 
he  had  stayed  there  with  a  very  doubtful 
travelling  companion,  at  a  hotel  which  was 
practically  a  gambling  joint  of  the  worst  de- 
scription ;  so  that  even  if  willing  "  friends  " 
could  be  found  to  testify  to  his  having  been 
there  on  the  important  date,  they  would  not 
be  gentlemen  calculated  to  make  a  good  im- 
pression on  a  jury.  On  neither  of  the  other 
dates  could  he  do  much  better,  for  he  had 
not  been  at  hotels,  and  there  would  be 
neither  the  registers,  nor  witnesses  to  testify 
to  payments  of  money,  to  give  an  air  of  au- 
thority to  the  evidence.  At  the  earlier  time 
he  was  staying  at  the  country  seat  of  a  gen- 
tleman of  bibulous  and  poker-playing  pro- 
clivities known  to  his  friends  as  "Tank." 
Mr.  Tank  Fergusson  had  since,  it  seemed, 
gone  to  prison  on  a  charge  of  aggravated  as- 
sault, having  accidentally  shot  another  gen- 
tleman, on  an  hilarious  occasion  when  he  was 
"  not  himself,"  and  was  genially  winding  up 
a  pleasant  evening  by  shooting  in  at  people's 
windows  in  a  random  and  childlike  manner. 
But  though  he  was  somebody  else  while  he 
was  drunk  and  did  the  shooting,  he  had  to 


THE  PROOF  OF  COURAGE  253 

go  to  prison  nevertheless  in  his  own  person, 
and  pay  the  penalty  of  too  marked  a  taste  for 
masquerading. 

The  later  date  was  that  of  the  shooting 
match  at  Titus  City,  and  as  Tom  had  distin- 
guished himself  by  standing  second  in  the 
score,  there  might  be  found  various  gentle- 
men, less  fortunate,  who  would  remember 
the  tenderfoot  who  beat  them.  His  particu- 
lar chum  on  that  day  had  been  a  rover  and 
soldier  of  fortune  like  himself.  They  had 
come  into  Titus  City  by  train,  very  early  in 
the  morning  after  a  long,  hot  journey,  sleep- 
ing in  a  common  car ;  and  had  left  it  twenty- 
four  hours  later  by  the  same  train,  having 
made  a  night  of  it  in  celebration  of  the  match. 
The  chances  were  nine  to  ten  that  Billy 
Buck,  or  Bucking  Billy,  as  he  preferred  to 
be  called,  could  not  now  be  found  to  testify 
in  favor  of  his  pal  pro  tern.  He  had  talked 
of  Tacoma  and  also  of  Phcenix  as  places  he 
yearned  to  visit,  and  he  might  equally  well 
be  in  Boston  or  New  Orleans. 

The  outlook  was  dark  indeed,  but  the  col- 
onel, having  brought  up  the  money  question, 
received  a  good-sized  retaining  fee,  and  sat- 
isfied himself  that  he  was  safe  on  the  rest 
from  a  client  of  business  connections  so  dis- 


254        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

tinguished  as  our  hero's,  despatched  his 
emissaries  and  telegrams  in  every  direction ; 
while  Tom,  relying  on  the  outlaw  far  more 
than  on  the  law,  and  enjoying  daily  the  vi- 
vacious conversation  of  Jerroray,  did  not 
greatly  trouble  himself. 

The  Grand  Jury,  sitting  on  Monday  at 
the  opening  of  Rising  Sun's  spring  term  of 
court,  found  a  true  bill  against  the  prisoner 
for  conspiring  with  John  Doe  and  Richard 
Roe  and  other  evil-disposed  persons  to  com- 
mit this  series  of  train  robberies  against  the 
peace  and  dignity  of  the  State,  and  espe- 
cially of  Rising  Sun  County. 

The  prisoner  was  arraigned  in  court  and 
pleaded  not  guilty.  The  Judge  then  sug- 
gested that  in  view  of  the  enormity  of  the 
offences,  their  unusual  extent,  the  expense 
to  the  State  of  delay,  and  the  desire  of  the 
public  for  a  speedy  trial,  it  should  occur  as 
soon  as  possible.  With  the  consent  both  of 
the  prosecuting  officer  and  of  Colonel  Trout, 
the  time  was  set  for  the  following  Thursday. 
The  Judge  placed  the  bail  at  $10,000,  but 
Tom,  very  comfortable  in  jail  and  confident 
of  a  speedy  release,  did  not  take  the  trouble 
to  procure  it. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE    LAW'S    COURSE 

ON  the  morning  of  the  trial  the  town  bore 
the  aspect  of  a  Fair  Day,  or  the  Fourth  of 
July.  All  Rising  Sun  and  Creosote  Coun- 
ties were  there.  They  came  with  their  en- 
tire families,  and  brought  with  them  copious 
supplies  of  food  for  themselves  and  their  live 
stock.  Some  arrived  the  night  before,  but 
most  of  them  poured  into  the  town  that 
morning,  on  foot,  on  horseback,  in  carts,  on 
bicycles,  or  by  the  trains.  The  nearest  min- 
ing camps  sent  large  contingents,  and  there 
was  even  a  crowd  from  Bloomer,  with  flash- 
ily dressed  women  and  sporty  looking  men. 
Everyone  wanted  to  see  Tom  Nelson,  the 
celebrated  outlaw.  Though  the  court-house 
could  not  contain  one-tenth  part  of  the  peo- 
ple who  crowded  without  it,  they  did  not 
cease  to  crowd,  each  one  determined,  for 
his  own  part,  to  get  in.  The  doors  were 
opened  at  half-past  eight,  and  two  minutes 


256       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

later  the  room  was  full,  terribly,  insuffera- 
bly full,  with  disappointed  hundreds  still 
scrambling  without.  These  had,  however, 
a  measure  of  compensation.  The  happy 
thought  came  to  them  to  go  up  to  the  jail, 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  and  await  the  pris- 
oner. Here  they  aroused  great  consterna- 
tion. There  were  so  many  of  them,  and 
they  were  so  boisterous  and  noisy,  that  the 
authorities  were  alarmed.  The  mayor  was 
sent  for,  and  began  to  read  them  the  riot 
act  from  the  roof  of  the  porch,  when  the 
crowd  set  up  a  great  howl  of  amusement. 

"Oh,  shut  up  your  guff!  "  they  cried. 
"  We  don't  want  no  riot  act.  We  ain't 
makin'  no  row.  All  we  want  is  Nelson." 

Then  they  began  to  shout  the  prisoner's 
name,  with  yells,  cat-calls,  cheers,  and  other 
demonstrations  which  effectively  drowned 
the  mayor's  voice.  Finding,  however,  that 
they  secured  nothing  by  this  method,  they 
finally  selected  a  big  miner  for  spokesman, 
and  he  explained  to  the  mayor  and  sheriff 
that  they  meant  no  harm  whatever  to  the 
prisoner  ;  far,  indeed,  from  havin'  thoughts 
of  lynchin'  him  they'd  be  more  inclined,  if 
anything,  to  set  him  free — he  was  such  a 
d d  smart  feller,  and  they  couldn't  help 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  257 

takin'  pride  in  him  as  a  product  of  their  own 
region — they  could  beat  the  world  on  train 
robbers  if  on  nothin'  else.  But  they'd  come 
now  merely  to  escort  him  in  honor  to  the 
court-house,  and  they'd  solemnly  promise 
not  to  interfere  with  the  course  of  justice. 
Only  if  they  didn't  get  a  sight  of  Tom  Nel- 
son, and  that  pretty  d d  quick,  they'd  not 

answer  for  any  accidents  that  might  occur. 

Whereupon,  with  all  speed,  the  prisoner 
was  produced,  attended  by  the  mayor,  the 
Terror,  three  or  four  deputies,  and  the  entire 
police  force  of  the  city  of  Aurora — which 
last  august  body  consisted  of  the  marshal, 
Mr.  Gosling,  and  three  policemen.  They 
all  bore  arms,  and  Tom,  with  his  handcuffs 
on,  moved  in  their  midst.  As  he  appeared 
upon  the  porch,  smiling  and  undaunted — 
for  he  had  heard  the  speech  and  knew  that 
he  had  nothing  to  fear  from  a  crowd  so  en- 
tirely in  his  favor — a  great  shout  went  up. 
Then  the  big  miner  proposed  three  cheers 
for  Tom  Nelson,  and  they  were  given  with 
enthusiasm.  Behind  the  miner,  Tom  caught 
sight  of  another  big  man,  with  clean  shaven 
cheeks  and  chin,  in  bluish  contrast  to  the 
deep  bronze  of  the  rest  of  his  countenance. 
There  was  something  familiar  about  him, 


258       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

and  Tom  turned  quickly  to  look  for  him 
again,  but  he  was  lost  in  the  sea  of  faces. 
The  crowd  fell  a  little  apart  as  the  prisoner 
and  his  escort  moved  down  from  the  porch, 
received  them  into  its  bosom,  surrounded 
and  engulfed  them,  and  bore  them  on  irre- 
sistibly, like  the  current  of  a  great  river. 
The  murmur  of  the  many  voices  deepened 
now  and  then  to  a  louder  roar,  and  again 
grew  less,  as  the  waves  of  the  sea  crash  upon 
the  sands,  and  draw  back  and  crash  again. 

Borne  along  thus  like  a  conqueror  by  the 
surging  movement  of  a  great  throng,  of 
whose  movement  he  was  the  spring,  and  of 
their  thoughts  the  pivot,  Tom  felt  a  sense 
of  strong  elation,  a  wish  that  he  were  indeed 
Tom  Nelson,  a  pride  that  at  least  he  knew 
the  hero  and  had  been  his  friend  and  com- 
rade. This  spontaneous  outburst  in  his  fa- 
vor did  not  strike  him  as  strange.  Like  all 
success,  it  only  increased  his  admiration  for 
the  outlaw,  and  he  longed  to  tell  these  men 
around  him,  whose  faces  were  so  eagerly 
scanning  his  face,  that  though  he  was  not 
the  man  they  thought,  yet  he  knew  and  liked 
and  admired  him  with  all  his  heart. 

Thus  when  they  reached  the  court-house 
and  the  crowd  refused  to  let  them  enter  until 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  259 

Tom  Nelson  had  made  them  a  speech,  Tom 
Norrie  was  at  no  loss. 

"  Let  me  speak — it's  the  only  thing  to 
quiet  them,  and  will  do  no  harm,"  he  said 
to  the  attendant  Terror  at  his  side,  who, 
with  a  drawn  revolver,  had  not  relaxed 
vigilance  for  a  moment. 

"  All  right,  speak  ahead,  but  don't  blow 
yourself  empty,"  returned  that  official,  hav- 
ing satisfied  himself  that  the  Judge  had  not 
yet  arrived. 

And  Tom,  with  admirable  art,  and  an 
eloquence  most  unexpected  to  himself,  said 
a  great  deal  in  very  little,  fanning  the  fire 
of  Tom  Nelson's  large  popularity  and  creat- 
ing at  the  same  time  a  small  popularity  of  his 
own.  "Let  the  law  take  its  course,"  he 
wound  up,  ' '  and  if  it  goes  wrong  and  I  am 
sent  to  prison,  your  outlaw  will  then  take 
his  course.  I  trust  to  him  and  so  must  you. 
If  instead  of  law  and  order  to-day  it  turns 
out  to  be  law  and  disorder,  he  will  give  the 
law  a  black  eye."  (Wild  cheers.)  "  He 
knows  I  am  innocent,  and  he  is  too  brave  a 
man,  and  too  honest,  to  let  another  suffer  in 
his  place.  They  call  him  a  thief,  but  if  all 
men  who  are  not  thieves  were  as  brave  and 
as  honest  as  he,  the  world  would  be  a  pleas- 


26o        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

anter  place  to  live  in.  Now,  gentlemen, 
this  is  all  I  have  to  say,  and  if  you  will  give 
three  cheers  for  Tom  Nelson,  I  will  go  and 
stand  my  trial,  trusting  to  you  that  all  shall 
pass  off  peaceably. ' ' 

The  three  cheers  for  Tom  Nelson  were  fol- 
lowed by  three  for  the  prisoner,  "  whether 
he's  Nelson  or  some  other  feller,"  as  one 
man  shouted ;  and  "a  plucky  gent  anyhow," 
declared  a  second. 

The  speech  made  the  occasion  seem  more 
like  a  Fourth  of  July  than  ever,  and  had 
drawn  the  curious  crowd  out  of  the  court- 
house to  listen  to  it.  Now,  as  the  prisoner 
was  led  into  the  building,  a  wild  scramble 
took  place  again  for  seats,  and  a  new  crowd, 
comprising  many  of  the  so-called  rioters, 
occupied  the  place. 

The  trial  began  promptly  at  nine  o'clock. 
Not  much  difficulty  was  had  in  securing  an 
unprejudiced  jury,  and  then  the  case  of  the 
State  against  Thomas  Norrie,  Jr.,  alias  J. 
Chance,  alias  Tom  Nelson,  was  opened  by 
Mr.  William  Warble,  the  attorney-general, 
who  had  come  down  especially  from  Boreal 
to  grace  the  occasion  with  his  prestige  and 
importance,  and  render  the  conviction  of  the 
notorious  train  robber  as  certain  as  possi 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  261 

ble.  Colonel  Trout  had  previously  expressed 
to  Tom  his  abundant  contempt  for  this  gen- 
tleman, who  had  been  but  recently  elevated 
to  his  position,  and  owed  it  entirely  to  po- 
litical services  rather  than  to  legal  ability, 
of  which  he  had  none.  And  besides,  the 
merest  justice  demanded  that  Bloomer  should 
have  had  the  attorney-generalship  instead  of 
such  a  mere  village  as  Boreal. 

"  Warble's  a  fat  fool — a  complacent,  tow- 
headed  chump,"  said  the  colonel,  superior 
in  the  consciousness  of  his  own  tall,  brunette 
beauty.  "  We're  lucky  that  his  conceit 
brings  him  down  here,  for  if  it  had  been  left 
to  the  county  prosecutor,  he'd  have  made 
something  of  the  case.  Warble's  so  stuck  on 
himself  that  he  needs  a  searchlight  to  see 
anything  else." 

And  in  truth,  in  spite  of  the  great  dignity 
of  the  attorney-general,  and  his  very  impor- 
tant manner,  the  case  he  outlined  seemed  to 
Tom  by  no  means  a  strong  one.  It  con- 
sisted chiefly  in  the  facts  that  the  prisoner 
was  caught  on  the  night  of  the  last  hold-up, 
not  five  miles  from  the  scene  thereof,  riding 
away  in  the  dark  on  a  rather  slow  horse, 
while  there  was  some  evidence  also  to  indi- 
cate that  he  had  not  been  absent  on  the  oc- 


262       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

casions  of  the  five  earlier  robberies.  Mr. 
Warble  explained  elaborately  that  the  State 
had  no  wish  to  convict  an  innocent  man,  and 
if  the  prisoner  were  innocent,  as  he  claimed, 
he  (Warble)  should  greatly  prefer  to  see  him 
go  free.  The  State  only  wished  to  see  justice 
done,  and  the  guilty  alone  punished  for  their 
misdeeds.  He  was  there  in  the  service  of 
the  State  to  put  the  jury  in  the  possession  of 
the  plain,  truthful  facts  of  the  case,  as  clearly 
as  was  in  his  power ;  and  then  from  these 
facts,  kept  ungarbled  by  the  sophistry  and 
misrepresentations  of  the  defence,  the  jury 
were  to  decide  whether  the  prisoner  were 
guilty  or  not  guilty.  They  knew  well  how 
serious  and  awful  a  thing  it  was  to  send  a 
man — and  a  young  man — to  state-prison,  and 
they  would  not  dream  of  doing  it  unless  the 
evidence  were  so  strong  against  him  as  to 
render  any  other  course  impossible — which, 
however,  the  prosecution  would  shortly  show 
them  to  be  the  case. 

11  The  defence  will  try  to  prove,"  said 
Mr.  Warble,  "  that  the  prisoner  is  really 
Mr.  Thomas  Norrie,  Jr.,  who  disappeared 
from  his  home  in  one  of  the  great  cities  of 
the  Eastern  seaboard,  on  the  25th  of  April, 
1895,  and  has  not  been  heard  of  since. 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  263 

They  may  prove  it  or  not  prove  it — it  is 
immaterial  to  us.  You  will  observe  that  the 
date  of  his  disappearance  is  just  ten  days  be- 
fore the  first  train  robbery,  and  are  aware 
that  we  are  not  half  that  time  distant  from 
New  York.  The  prisoner,  when  at  home} 
may  be  as  many  gentlemen,  and  as  many 
kinds  of  gentlemen  as  he  pleases.  Our  busi- 
ness is  to  find  out  whether  he  is  Tom  Nelson 
or  not,  and  if  he  is  Tom  Nelson  he  must 
meet  his  just  deserts,  no  matter  how  many 
seemingly  innocent  persons  he  has  been  be- 
fore or  may  contemplate  being  hereafter. 
To  show,  in  short,  how  little  the  State  cares 
about  his  name  or  record  outside  of  her 
boundaries  he  was  named  in  the  indictment 
Thomas  Norrie,  Jr." 

As  one  of  the  chief  points  on  which  Tom's 
counsel  had  relied  for  a  successful  defence 
was  the,  to  him,  very  impressive  fact  that 
his  client  was  a  partner  in  the  wealthy  and 
widely  known  manufacturing  firm  of  Norrie, 
Trumbull  &  Co.,  he  was  a  little  disconcert- 
ed by  Mr.  Warble's  willingness  to  admit  it. 
But  this  was  the  only  thing  in  the  address 
which  really  disturbed  the  colonel  at  all. 

Nor  did  the  evidence  at  first  seem  partic- 
ularly damaging,  relating  as  it  did  entirely 


264       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

to  the  last  hold-up,  as  if  Mr.  Warble  meant 
that  to  be  his  chief  point  of  attack.  The 
earliest  witnesses,  most  of  them  passengers 
on  the  train  that  night,  stated,  one  after  an- 
other, that  although  they  could  not  see  the 
robber's  face  for  his  mask,  Tom  resembled 
him  in  every  particular  so  far  as  they  had 
been  able  to  see  him,  being  of  the  same 
height  and  build,  having  the  same  color  of 
hair,  the  same  general  look  and  manner  of 
a  gentleman,  and  above  all  the  same  voice. 
As  each  fresh  witness  was  introduced  a  screen 
was  placed  before  Tom  and  five  other  men 
who  sat  with  him,  and  each  man  or  woman 
listening  to  the  six  voices  behind  the  screen, 
was  required  to  identify  that  of  the  train 
robber.  Colonel  Trout  objected  violently 
when  this  scheme  was  first  proposed,  bade 
Tom  not  to  speak  a  word,  and  proclaimed 
loudly  his  inalienable  right  not  to  be  com- 
pelled to  incriminate  himself.  Tom  held  a 
brief,  whispered  consultation  with  his  coun- 
sel, however,  whereupon  the  colonel  arose 
all  smiles  and  urbanity,  and  said  that  his 
client  was  so  confident  that  his  innocence 
would  win  the  day  in  the  end,  that  he  was 
willing  to  submit  to  that  or  any  other  test, 
although  perfectly  aware,  from  his  own 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  265 

knowledge  of  the  train  robber,  as  would  be 
brought  out  in  the  case  for  the  defence,  that 
their  voices  were  surprisingly  alike.  Where- 
upon the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution,  one 
by  one  pitched  on  Tom's  voice  the  moment 
he  spoke,  with  a  unanimity  which  had  a 
visible  effect  upon  the  jury,  but  which  Col- 
onel Trout  later  on  gallantly  attempted  to 
turn  into  evidence  favorable  to  the  defence. 
But  if  the  case  for  the  prosecution  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Warble  began  like  a  modest 
and  unimportant  brook,  it  swelled  through 
the  morning  into  a  great  and  mighty  river. 
Little  bit  by  little  bit  Tom's  spirits  ebbed 
before  the  great  array  of  evidence  prepared 
by  the  county  prosecutor  and  brought  in  by 
the  attorney-general,  to  prove  the  seemingly 
modest  propositions  of  his  address.  Things 
that  he  had  quite  forgotten  or  overlooked, 
mere  accidents  of  ill-luck,  were  brought  up 
and  piled  on  the  great  total  of  circumstan- 
tial evidence,  until  as  the  hours  went  by  the 
prisoner  saw  that  the  case  of  the  State  against 
him  was  one  that  could  scarcely  be  broken. 
From  the  sixth  train  robbery  the  attorney- 
general  went  back  to  the  others,  and  brought 
out  rapidly,  by  means  of  many  witnesses,  the 
story  of  the  first  four.  Every  witness  who 


266        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

had  been  in  a  hold-up  testified  to  the  pris- 
oner's striking  resemblance  in  voice  and  gen- 
eral appearance  to  the  train  robber. 

His  arrival  in  Bud  on  the  evening  of  the 
fourth  hold-up  was  certified  to  by  Mr.  Au- 
gustus B.  Dicker,  clerk  and  bar-tender  of 
the  Empire  Hotel  at  Bud ;  Mr.  Job  Swin- 
ney  and  others,  habitues  of  that  hostelry  ; 
and  Mr.  Edward  P.  Bedloe,  Mr.  Charles  S. 
Shore,  and  other  gentlemen  from  Aurora, 
temporarily  staying  there  on  the  occasion 
of  Bud's  great  ball.  It  was  shown  that  the 
hold-up  occurred  some  time  after  dark,  about 
a  mile  and  a  half  outside  of  Bud,  and  that 
the  prisoner,  giving  his  name  as  Chance, 
and  his  residence  as  "  Burr  Oak,  Nebraska," 
had  turned  up  at  the  Empire  Hotel  a  couple 
of  hours  or  so  later,  within  fifteen  minutes 
of  the  arrival  of  the  evening  train  on  the 
Red  Gulch  Road,  by  which  he  stated  that 
he  had  come.  Every  one  had  noticed  from 
the  first  that  he  was  a  suspicious-looking  in- 
dividual. He  had  evinced  an  enormous  in- 
terest in  Tom  Nelson  and  all  his  perform- 
ances, and  would  in  fact  talk  of  little  or 
nothing  else,  though  he  professed  that  he  had 
never  even  heard  of  the  train  robberies 
before  that  night. 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  267 

Mr.  Swinney,  whose  voluble  tongue  re- 
tailed these  latter  facts  before  Colonel  Trout 
could  stop  him,  was  anxious  to  tell  also  all 
his  suspicions  about  Mr.  Chance,  and  all  his 
other  thoughts  and  emotions  before  or  since, 
but  was  finally  suppressed  by  Colonel  Trout's 
animated  objections. 

The  chambermaid  of  the  Empire  Hotel  re- 
ported that  she  had  thought  Mr.  Chance  a 
little  out  of  the  ordinary,  and  had  hence  in- 
vestigated the  contents  of  his  valise,  and  ob- 
served with  interest  all  the  pretty  red  T. 
N.'s  on  his  underclothing  and  the  white  ones 
on  his  handkerchiefs.  She,  too,  went  on 
talking,  and  her  course  could  not  be  ar- 
rested until  she  had  brought  out,  to  the  de- 
light of  the  crowd,  the  interesting  and  sus- 
picious fact  that,  instead  of  sleeping  in  the 
usual  nightshirt,  or  even  the  underwear  he 
had  worn  by  day,  Mr.  Chance  went  to  bed 
in  a  coat  and  trousers  of  thin  pink  and  white 
silk,  fastened  by  a  sort  of  small  frog — "aw- 
ful pretty,"  said  the  chambermaid — "nice 
enough  for  a  bride." 

Mr.  Warble  pointed  out  later  to  the  jury 
the  effete  luxury  and  depravity  indicated 
by  such  unmanly,  such  essentially  feminine, 
nocturnal  apparel  as  this.  ' '  What  could 


268        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

you  expect  of  such  a  man  but  that  he  would 
be  a  low  criminal  and  a  highway  robber  ?  ' ' 
he  inquired,  indignantly.  "The  British 
aristocracy,  gentlemen,  those  shameless  dukes 
and  earls  with  whose  shocking  ways  of  cor- 
ruption and  sin  you  are  doubtless  all  famil- 
iar, probably  wear  these  befrilled  and  fur- 
belowed  costumes  every  night  of  their  lives. 
If  we  are  to  keep  our  own  great  country  in 
its  present  pure  and  unspotted  innocence  we 
must  not  tolerate  these  hateful  foreign  cus- 
toms— we  must  exterminate  them,  gentle- 
men, root  and  branch ;  that  is  to  say,  coat 
and  pants,  and  cling  to  the  simplicity  of  the 
republican  nightshirt.  The  great  Nordau 
himself  would  surely  agree  with  me  that  such 
garments  as  these  are  but  another  sign  of  that 
Fin  der  Sickle  degeneracy  that  leads  inevi- 
tably to  common  thieving,  gentlemen — I  re- 
peat it,  common  thieving." 

Colonel  Trout,  in  his  own  speech,  retorted 
upon  Mr.  Warble  here  with  crushing  scorn. 
These  articles  of  wearing  apparel,  which  that 
distinguished  gentleman  had  apparently  never 
heard  of  before,  were  just  ordinary  pajamas, 
made  and  worn  in  America  in  large  quanti- 
ties, and  no  more  foreign  than  Plymouth 
Rock  pants.  If  the  dukes  and  earls  wore 
them,  so  also  did  Mr.  Chamberlain  and  Mr. 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  269 

Gladstone,  and,  nearer  at  home,  such  great 
men  as  President  Cleveland  and  ex-President 
Harrison,  even  T.  B.  Reed  and  Major  Mc- 
Kinley,  and  probably  all  the  other  Presiden- 
tial candidates  of  1896 — in  short,  the  Four 
Hundred  everywhere,  but  train  robbers  no- 
where. The  singular  ignorance  of  society 
customs  in  the  mind  of  the  eminent  counsel 
for  the  prosecution  indicated  his  lifelong 
residence  in  the  backwoods  hamlet  of  Boreal. 
Pajamas  in  Bloomer  were  as  thick  as  peas, 
and  in  short  there  was  no  better  argument 
in  favor  of  Mr.  Nome's  entire  innocence 
than  the  fact  that  he  wore  these  highly  cul- 
tivated and  even  reserved — yes  reserved — 
garments.  Colonel  Trout  had  the  honor  to 
belong  to  the  Browning  Society  of  Bloomer, 
a  club  in  which  were  represented  all  the 
wealth  and  fashion  of  that  eminently  mod- 
ern city,  and  at  the  next  meeting  he  should 
himself  take  occasion  to  suggest  that  all  its 
members  who  had  not  already  done  so  should 
at  once  adopt  the  wearing  of  pink  and  white 
silk  pajamas,  as  a  badge,  as  it  were,  of  cult- 
ure, refinement,  and  style." 

Mr.  Warble  declared  hotly  that  he  should 
never  give  his  vote  for  any  Presidential 
candidate  who  wore  this  lewd  and  foreign 


270        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

night  attire,  and  he  hoped  that  all  true 
Americans  would  follow  his  lead  ;  and  as  for 
Bloomer's  Browning  Society,  like  all  other 
such  societies  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  United  States,  the  men  were 
all  chumps  and  the  women  all  frumps. 

But  these  little  amenities  did  not  occur  till 
the  final  summing  up,  and  in  carrying  the 
pajama  episode  through  to  the  end  we  are 
moved  only  by  a  desire  to  clear  out  of  the 
way  all  such  distracting  minor  incidents, 
that  the  tragic  march  of  the  main  events 
may  move  on  undisturbed. 

Tom  Norrie's  speeches  and  actions  at  the 
ball  were  brought  out  one  by  one  with  a 
fatal  significance  that  appalled  him.  The 
evidence  of  the  revengeful  Mr.  Charley 
Shore  was  particularly  damaging,  but  Col- 
onel Trout  turned  it  neatly  by  his  method 
of  cross-examination. 

Q.  You  were  engaged  to  Miss  Geraldine 
Roray  up  to  the  night  of  the  fourth  hold- 
up? 

A.   (Sulkily.)   "Yes." 

Q.  You  quarrelled  on  the  train  in  regard 
to  Miss  Roray's  way  of  talking  to  the  train 
robber  ? 

A.  I  suppose  you'd  say  quarrel. 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  271 

Q.  Then  she  met  the  prisoner,  Mr. 
Chance,  at  the  ball  ? 

A.  Yes. 

Q.  And  seemed  much  taken  with  him  ? 

A.   He  was  taken  with  her. 

Q.  She  danced  with  him  ten  times? 

A.   I  don't  remember  how  many  times. 

Q.   But  she  only  danced  with  you  once  ? 

A.   That's  all. 

Q.  And,  as  we  may  say,  gave  you  the 
mitten  the  next  morning? 

A.   (Sulkily.)  Yes. 

Q.  And  it  was  not  until  she  ceased  to  al- 
low you  to  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  her  eyes 
that  you  began  to  suspect  that  Mr.  Chance 
was  the  train  robber,  and  to  act  on  that  sus- 
picion ? 

A.   (Hedging.)  Well— 

Q.  Answer  directly,  Mr.  Shore.  Did  it 
enter  your  head  that  the  prisoner  was  the 
train  robber  before  the  lady  bounced  you  ? 
Yes  or  No. 

A.  No. 

"  That  will  do,  that  will  do,"  said  Col- 
onel Trout.  "  That's  all  I  want  of  you." 

The  other  young  men  he  cross-examined 
with  similar  tact  and  sharpness  to  their  own 
discomfiture,  to  the  delight  of  the  audience, 


272       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

and  with  some  effect  upon  the  jury.  Mr. 
Cutler  Keach  was,  however,  less  tractable. 
Both  on  examination  and  cross-examination 
he  made  many  strong  points  for  the  prose- 
cution, and  turned  the  laugh  cleverly  upon 
Colonel  Trout,  though  he  was  never  able  to 
disturb  that  gentleman's  coolness  and  ease. 

Tom  looked  to  Jerroray's  evidence  to  cor- 
rect, if  anything  could,  all  that  was  against 
him,  and  turn  the  tide  once  more  in  his 
favor.  Colonel  Trout  had  been  greatly  sur- 
prised that  with  her  well-known  predilec- 
tions she  should  be  called  as  a  witness  for 
the  prosecution. 

"Warble*  11  get  left  when  he  tackles  her. 
He  don't  know  women,"  said  the  colonel, 
with  a  superior  air  of  knowing  himself  all 
there  was  to  know. 

And  Jerroray  had  just  sent  him  a  little 
note  by  her  faithful  slave  and  father,  the 
sheriff.  "Warble's  had  his  innings,"  she 
wrote,  "and  his  side's  made  a  big  score, 
with  lots  of  three-base  hits  and  home  runs, 
I  admit.  But  we  aren't  beaten  yet.  I'm 
coming  to  the  bat  pretty  quick  myself,  and 
I'm  onto  the  fat  man's  curves.  You  can  bet 
I'm  not  going  to  fan  the  air." 

Thinking  of  this    encouraging   prospect, 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  273 

amused  at  the  way  the  young  lady  had  mixed 
the  analogies  of  the  national  game  and  law- 
suits in  her  mind,  and  with  his  eyes  wander- 
ing aimlessly  over  the  court  -  room,  Tom 
caught  sight  suddenly  of  the  same  face  he 
had  noticed  in  the  crowd  before  the  jail.  It 
was  familiar,  yet  not  familiar,  and  puzzled 
him,  as  he  found  it  impossible  to  recall 
where  or  when  he  had  seen  it  before.  But 
just  then  a  new  witness  was  called,  and  he 
turned  quickly  to  see  Jerroray  herself  being 
escorted  to  the  stand.  She  looked  more 
brilliantly  handsome  than  ever,  in  one  of 
her  most  stunning  costumes,  with  the  widest 
white  sailor-collar  that  could  be  imagined 
extending  out  over  navy  blue  sleeves  that 
were  wider  still.  A  murmur  of  admiration 
went  through  the  crowded  court-room,  but 
she  looked  only  at  Tom,  with  a  smile  of 
friendliness  and  confident  serenity. 

Colonel  Trout,  unpleasantly  surprised  at 
his  scorned  rival's  success  thus  far  in  the 
case,  and,  wishing,  as  he  explained  to  Tom, 
to  "rattle"  him,  remarked  here  in  an  un- 
dertone, quite  audible  to  the  jury,  that  it 
was  a  shame  to  call  so  innocent  and  lovely 
a  young  lady  upon  any  witness-stand. 

Mr.  Warble,  overhearing  him  as  he  in- 
18 


274       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

tended,  became  heated  and  indignant  at 
once,  and  retorted  aloud  that  reluctant  as 
he  was  to  bring  so  estimable  and  superior  a 
young  woman  into  the  case,  he  had  been 
forced  to  it  by  the  inconsiderate  and  ungen- 
tlemanly  behavior  of  the  prisoner,  the  client 
of  his  honorable  friend.  This  cowardly 
villain  had  so  forced  himself  upon  the  so- 
ciety of  Sheriff  Roray's  beautiful  daughter, 
and  entirely  against  the  wishes  of  her  dis- 
creet and  maidenly  modesty,  that  she  unfor- 
tunately knew  things  which  no  other  human 
being  could  tell  them,  and  it  was  only  on 
this  account  that  he  had  reluctantly  done 
his  duty  and  called  her  to  the  service  of  the 
State.  No  more  entirely  admirable  young 
lady  ever  lived  than  Miss  Geraldine  Roray, 
and  the  dastardly  manner  in  which  her  name 
had  been  dragged  into  the  case  by  the  un- 
natural blackguard ' ' 

"  Come,  come,  Warble,"  interrupted 
Colonel  Trout,  sarcastically,  "  this  may  be  a 
good  enough  way  to  manage  the  cases  before 
a  justice  that  you've  been  accustomed  to, 
but  it  ain't  the  way  we  try  jury  cases." 

And  the  Court,  having  listened  up  to  this 
point  with  an  impartial  smile,  now  suggested 
to  the  attorney-general  that  he  had  said  all 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  275 

that  was  necessary  to  say,  and  might  pro- 
ceed with  the  examination  of  the  witness. 

"But  before  he  starts  up,"  remarked  Jer- 
roray,  pleasantly,  to  the  Judge,  "  I  would 
like  to  observe  in  my  own  behalf  that  Chance 
is  one  of  my  most  intimate  gentlemen-friends 
and  not  a  villain,  or  a  coward,  or  a  black- 
guard, or  any  other  of  the  names  that  Gen- 
eral Warble  just  called  him,  and  he  never 
forced  himself  on  my  society  or  dragged  me 
into  this  case,  but  I  would  have  come  into  it 
anyway  of  my  own  accord,  for  I  would  like 
to  prove,  what  I  know  to  be  true,  that  he's 
no  more  a  train  robber  than  I  am."  She 
got  this  off  so  quickly,  raising  her  voice 
louder  and  louder  as  Mr.  Warble  began  to 
object,  that  the  Court  hadn't  time  to  stop 
her,  and  the  audience  broke  into  cheers  as 
she  finished. 

"  The  next  man  that  raises  his  voice  in 
this  court-room  will  be  instantly  ejected," 
said  the  Judge  severely  when  the  noise  sub- 
sided. "And  witnesses  that  display  con- 
tempt of  court  will  be  dealt  with  according 
to  their  deserts. ' ' 

"Oh,  now,  Judge,  come  off  the  bench," 
said  Jerroray,  with  a  grin.  "You  know  I 
didn't  mean  contempt  of  court,  and  you  and 


276        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

I  are  good  chums  anyhow,  and  I  want  to 
work  this  racket  to  suit  you  just  as  near  as 
I  can.  But  it  ain't  fair,  now  you  know  it 
ain't,  to  let  Warble  blacken  the  prisoner's 
character,  and  if  you  let  him  do  that  you'll 
have  to  let  me  stand  up  for  him,  else  I'll 
never  mix  you  another  toddy — and  you  know 
you  like  my  toddies. ' ' 

The  crowd  laughed  irrepressibly  at  this, 
and  a  genial  smile  overspread  the  august 
countenance  of  the  Court. 

"That's  very  true,  Geraldine,"  he  said, 
"and  I  also  like  your  conversation.  It's 
much  more  entertaining  than  that  of  our  dis- 
tinguished friend  the  attorney-general — but 
suppose  you  give  him  a  chance  now  ? ' ' 

"All  right,"  said  Jerroray.  "That's 
square.  Fire  away,  General  Warble. ' ' 

Mr.  Warble  looked  as  if  he  would  like  to 
commit  the  whole  court  for  contempt  of  Mr. 
Warble.  His  usually  bland  eye  was  flashing, 
and  he  meant  business  when  he  began  to 
examine  the  sheriff's  popular  daughter.  He 
had  apparently  been  well  primed  by  the  vin- 
dictive Charley  Shore,  and  he  knew  exactly 
what  questions  to  ask.  He  brought  out  at 
once  the  facts  that  Jerroray  was  on  the  train 
the  night  of  the  fourth  hold-up,  had  been 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  277 

obliged  to  part  with  all  her  jewelry,  and  had 
then  gone  on  to  the  ball  at  Bud.  Her  con- 
versation with  the  train  robber  was  repeated 
in  full,  and  with  Mr.  Warble's  artful  little 
touches  would  have  indicated  to  any  unpre- 
judiced listener  that  Tom  Nelson's  fancy  had 
been  decidedly  caught  by  Miss  Geraldine 
Roray,  and  that  his  advice  to  her  not  to 
marry  Mr.  Shore  might  easily  be  construed 
to  indicate  that  he  had  his  eye  on  the  succes- 
sion. Mr.  Warble  pinned  the  young  lady 
down  to  estimating  exactly  that  it  was  above 
an  hour  and  a  half,  but  less  than  two  hours, 
after  the  hold-up  when  the  prisoner  appeared 
in  the  ball-room  and  was  immediately  brought 
to  be  introduced  to  her.  He  made  her  re- 
peat their  conversation,  Tom's  expressions 
of  admiration  for  the  train  robber,  his  con- 
doning of  the  enormity  of  his  crimes,  his 
statement  that  he  would  like  to  join  Mr. 
Nelson's  gang,  his  wager  that  he  would  bring 
her  back  her  diamonds. 

"  The  prisoner  reminded  you  strongly  of 
the  train  robber  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  he  didn't,"  said  Jerroray,  defiantly, 
and  Mr.  Warble  looked  surprised  and  pained. 

"Yet  you  said  so  later  to  several  per- 
sons? " 


278       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"Well,  that's  straight,  ain't  it?  When 
I  said  so  he  did,  of  course,  but  that  ain't 
sayin'  he  did  before,  or  does  now." 

"Ah,  I  see,"  observed  Mr.  Warble. 
"  Perhaps  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say 
that  he  struck  you  as  familiar  when  you  first 
saw  him.  Did  he?  " 

"Oh,  kind  of." 

"  He  paid  you  very  marked  attention  dur- 
ing the  evening  ? ' ' 

"  Well,  you've  heard  how  mad  it  made 
Charley  Shore  and  the  other  fellers,  haven't 
you  ? ' '  (General  laugh.) 

"  And  you  constantly  had  this  feeling  of 
having  seen  him  before  somewhere  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  so." 

"  How  long  was  it  until  you  decided  that 
he  reminded  you  of  the  train  robber?" 

"  Next  morning — Mr.  Potts " 

"You  have  answered  my  question,"  said 
Mr.  Warble,  interrupting  her  quickly.  ' '  Now 
tell  me  if  you  were  not  very  much  struck 
with  the  resemblance  as  soon  as  you  thought 
of  it?" 

"  I  don't  know  as  you'd  say  very  much 
struck,"  said  Jerroray,  indignant  at  not  being 
allowed  to  say  that  Mr.  Potts  first  suggested 
it  to  her. 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  279 

"  Come,  come,  Miss  Roray.  Were  you 
not  confident  later  that  he  was  himself  the 
train  robber  ?  " 

"Well,  everybody  else  seemed  to  think 
so." 

"And  it  seemed  to  you  perfectly  pos- 
sible?" 

"  Oh,  of  course,  any  thing's  possible." 

"  Answer  the  question  directly.  Were 
you  not  sure  at  one  time  that  the  prisoner 
was  actually  the  train  robber  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes.  But  I  didn't  think  so  long 
— not  more'n  two  or  three  hours — Jack 
Potts " 

"  Confine  your  answers  to  the  questions 
asked,  if  you  please,"  said  Mr.  Warble,  se- 
verely. 

Then  to  Tom's  great  surprise  and  that  of 
his  counsel,  the  attorney-general  brought 
out  the  part  Jack  Potts  had  played  in  his 
escape,  how  he  had  brought  the  horse,  told 
the  prisoner  of  his  danger,  started  him  off  on 
the  mare,  stayed  and  talked  ten  minutes, 
then  followed  him  on  horseback  and  re- 
turned of  course  without  him,  while  the 
sheriff  and  his  posse  were  still  reconnoitring 
about  the  Roray  mansion.  All  the  crush- 
ing facts  about  Jack  Potts  which  they  had 


280       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

hoped  to  elucidate  on  cross-examination  Mr. 
Warble  brought  out  as  triumphantly  as  if 
they  constituted  his  most  important  evi- 
dence ;  then  bowed  politely  to  Colonel  Trout 
and  said,  with  the  conscious  flush  of  vic- 
tory : 

"  The  witness  is  in  your  hands." 

Tom  marvelled  that  the  colonel,  rising 
promptly  to  his  feet,  looked  no  less  triumph- 
ant than  the  attorney-general. 

"When  the  proper  time  comes,"  said 
Colonel  Trout,  "  I  shall  have  a  great  many 
questions  to  ask  Miss  Roray,  as  one  of  the 
chief  witnesses  for  the  defence.  Now  I  shall 
be  content  with  but  two  or  three.  Miss 
Roray,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  who  first  sug- 
gested to  you  the  idea  that  the  prisoner  re- 
sembled the  train  robber  ?  ' ' 

"Jack  Potts,"  said  Jerroray,  promptly. 

"Exactly,"  said  the  colonel,  satisfied 
with  the  sensation  produced  by  this  state- 
ment. "  And  when  was  this?  " 

"On  the  train,  the  day  after  the  hold-up 
and  the  ball." 

"And  did  the  alleged  Mr.  Potts  convey 
the  same  impression  to  other  occupants  of 
your  car  ?  ' ' 

"  I  should  just  smile.     He  stirred  every- 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  281 

body  all  up  about  it,  a-lookin'  and  a-smilin* 
and  just  hintin'  things." 

"  That  will  do.  That's  all  I  want  now," 
said  the  colonel. 

Mr.  Warble,  however,  rose  to  a  fresh  attack 
with  undiminished  alacrity.  "  I  should  like 
to  introduce  the  evidence  of  Mr.  Potts  him- 
self just  here,"  he  said,  "but  he  cannot  ar- 
rive till  the  noon  train.  We  will  proceed 
to  the  fifth  train  robbery,  which  took  place 
three  days  after  Mr.  Nelson's  escape  from 
Aurora.  We  will  have  the  screen  placed  be- 
fore Mr.  Nelson — I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Chance 
— or  should  I  say  Mr.  Norrie  ?  "  he  said 
with  great  politeness.  "  The  screen,  if  you 
please,  as  we  desire  each  witness  to  identify 
the  prisoner  first  by  his  voice. ' ' 

Tom  had  grown  accustomed  to  the  mo- 
notony of  the  process,  and  amused  himself 
by  noticing  the  way  in  which  the  witnesses 
themselves  spoke,  and  wondering  if  he  could 
identify  them  if  he  ever  had  a  chance. 
Three  witnesses,  two  men  and  a  woman, 
picked  him  out  unerringly  by  his  speech  and 
told  their  tales.  A  fourth  was  brought  in, 
a  woman  with  a  cultivated  voice  at  the 
tones  of  which  Tom  Norrie's  heart  stood 
still.  It  was  a  voice  he  could  have  iden- 


282        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

tified  anywhere,  at  the  ends  of  the  world, 
after  a  hundred  years,  a  voice  that  for  all 
his  fancied  attraction  to  the  friendly  and  de- 
lightful Jerroray  was  the  sweetest  thing  in  the 
world  to  him,  and  would  ever  be.  The  wit- 
ness had  been  in  the  last  hold-up,  she  said, 
and  had  lost  all  her  jewels,  which  she  in- 
variably kept  with  her  in  a  small  bag,  and 
$200  in  money.  Tom's  heart  grew  cold  at 
the  fatality  of  it.  She  had  come  all  that 
way  to  convict  him — her  evidence  would 
be  fatal. 

"  You  remember  the  robber's  voice  well  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Warble. 

"Perfectly." 

"  Had  you  any  special  reason  for  noticing 
and  remembering  it  ?  " 

"  I  had — it  reminded  me  of  the  voice  of 
a  friend." 

"  You  do  not  think  it  could  have  been 
your  friend  ?  ' ' 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed,"  with  a  little  laugh. 
"  That  would  be  quite  impossible.  But  the 
likeness  was  so  marked  that  I  am  sure  I  should 
know  his  voice  in  a  moment  if  I  heard  it 
again. ' ' 

Tom  sat  at  the  beginning  of  a  row  of 
five.  Mr.  Warble  held  up  four  ringers,  and 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  283 

the  fourth  man  spoke  the  formula  agreed 
on. 

"  That  is  not  the  voice,"  said  the  witness, 
in  deep,  serious  tones  that  thrilled  Tom 
through  and  through. 

Mr.  Warble  held  up  three  fingers  and  the 
third  man  spoke. 

"No,"  said  the  witness;  "that  is  not 
it." 

Mr.  Warble  held  up  one  finger,  and  with 
a  heart  beating  like  a  trip-hammer  Tom  ut- 
tered the  brief  words. 

The  witness  gave  aery.  "That  is  it," 
she  said.  "I  should  know  the  voice  any- 
where. ' ' 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Warble,  affably,  "tell 
us  which  of  the  five  men  resembles  most 
your  memory  of  the  train  robber.  Officer, 
remove  the  screen." 

The  officer  removed  the  screen  and  Tom 
and  Janet  Trumbull  found  themselves  face 
to  face. 

She  gave  one  wild  scream.  "  Oh,  Tom — 
Tom  !  "  she  cried.  "  It  isn't  you — it  can't 
be  you  !  ' '  and  sank  back  on  a  chair,  cover- 
ing her  face  with  her  hands.  Jerroray  was 
sitting  close  by  and  sprang  to  her  aid.  A 
tremor  of  excitement  went  through  the  court- 


284       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

room.  Tom  was  pale  as  death  and  trembling, 
and  every  one  looked  from  her  to  him  and 
from  him  to  her. 

Mr.  Warble  seemed  no  less  surprised  than 
every  one  else  by  what'  had  happened,  but 
as  soon  as  Janet  had  somewhat  recovered 
herself  he  resumed  his  examination.  "  You 
had  known  the  prisoner  before  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  faintly. 

"  He  was  the  friend  you  spoke  of — of 
whose  voice  you  were  reminded  by  the  train 
robber's?" 

"Oh,  don't  ask  me!"  she  cried.  "I 
can't  tell  you — I  can't !  " 

"The  law  requires  you  to  tell  me,"  said 
Mr.  Warble. 

"Shame  —  shame  !  "  cried  some  one  in 
the  crowd. 

"  Put  that  man  out !  "  shouted  the  Judge, 
angrily.  "  Let  the  examination  proceed." 

Confused  with  the  shock,  frightened  by 
the  publicity  of  the  situation,  and  overcome 
with  her  emotions,  Janet  perforce  answered 
the  questions  of  Mr.  Warble,  denying  in  toto 
that  Tom  had  robbed  her,  but  admitting  that 
he  was  the  friend  she  had  referred  to,  whose 
voice  was  like  the  voice  of  the  train  robber ; 
that  she  had  known  him  for  several  years, 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  285 

that  he  was  her  father's  partner  in  business, 
that  she  had  known  him  especially  well  for 
the  last  year  or  two — yes,  that  she  had  been 
engaged  to  him,  but  no  longer  was ;  that  this 
engagement  had  been  broken  seven  weeks 
previously,  the  day  before  his  disappearance  ; 
that  she  had  not  seen  or  heard  anything  of 
him  since ;  that  she  had  been  greatly  worried 
— yes,  that  she  couldn't  but  feel  responsible 
for  anything  that  might  happen  to  him,  since 
he  had  gone  off  so  suddenly  after  what  she 
had  said  to  him,  and  she  was  afraid,  from  the 
nature  of  their  talk,  that  he  would  get  into 
dangers,  perhaps  very  great  dangers,  and 
that  she  had  hoped  in  coming  West  herself 
that  she  might  possibly  see  him  and  avert 
these  dangers — and  oh,  dear!  it  was  too 
awful — she  couldn'  t  bear  it ! 

She  nearly  broke  down  at  this  point,  and 
Mr.  Warble  gave  her  the  opportunity  to  re- 
cover herself  before  going  on. 

' '  You  are  sure,  you  say,  that  the  prisoner 
was  not  the  train  robber,  in  spite  of  the 
great  resemblance  of  the  voices  ?  ' ' 

"Yes." 

"You  are  positive  it  was  some  other 
man?" 

"Yes." 


286       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"Young  lady,"  said  Mr.  Warble,  severely, 
"  you  perhaps  forget  that  you  are  speaking 
under  oath.  This  is  no  matter  to  be  re- 
garded lightly.  Are  you  ready  to  swear  that 
the  prisoner  could  not  have  been  the  man 
who  held  up  your  train  ?  ' ' 

"  I  object  to  this  needless  questioning," 
said  Colonel  Trout.  "  The  witness  is  aware 
that  she  is  speaking  under  oath,  and  has 
made  her  statements  accordingly.  And  I 
also  object,  your  Honor,  to  my  honorable 
friend's  cross-examination  of  his  own  witness 
in  this  unseemly  and  irregular  manner." 

His  Honor,  however,  upheld  the  attorney- 
general,  stating  that  in  view  of  the  evident 
reluctance  of  the  witness  he  should  allow 
him  to  put  his  questions  in  any  form  he 
pleased ;  and  again  Mr.  Warble  asked  Janet 
if  she  were  ready  to  swear  to  her  last  state- 
ment. 

"  I — I  am  sure  he  wasn't  the  train  rob- 
ber." 

"  But  will  you  swear  it  ?  " — in  aloud  tone 
and  a  severe  manner. 

"  I  know  that  he  couldn't  have  been." 

"  But  will  you  swear  it?  "  Mr.  Warble 
spoke  still  louder  and  looked  more  se- 
vere. 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  287 

"  It  was  really  impossible,  you  see." 

"But  will  you  swear  it?"  Mr.  Warble 
roared  the  question  this  time,  and  his  aspect 
was  truly  terrible. 

"I — I  should  rather  not  swear  it,"  said 
Janet,  falteringly.  "  I  know  he  wasn't  the 
train  robber,  but — I  don't  like  to  swear 
things." 

"  Oh,  very  well,  very  well,"  said  Mr. 
Warble,  having  made  his  point.  "  The 
actual  robber  was  masked,  you  say,  and  you 
could  not  see  his  face  at  all  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Was  his  figure  and  general  appearance 
unlike  the  prisoner's  ?  " 

"  Perhaps — yes." 

"  If  the  prisoner  were  masked  are  you  sure 
you  would  know  him  ?  ' ' 

"  Why — I  don't  know." 

"  Was  the  robber  dressed  as  the  prisoner 
is  now  ?  " 

"  I  don't  remember  exactly." 

"Has  the  prisoner  ever  worn  just  such 
clothes  when  you  have  seen  him  before  ?  ' ' 

"No." 

"  Could  you  swear  that  the  clothes  he  has 
on  now  were  not  the  ones  worn  by  the  train 
robber?" 


288       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"No-o." 

"  Can  you,  in  fact,  mention  any  one 
thing  that  makes  it  possible  for  you  to  show 
that  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  was  not  the  man 
who  held  you  up  ?  " 

This  was  the  last  straw.  Janet  could 
bear  no  more.  She  looked  wildly  at  Tom, 
at  the  Judge,  the  jury,  about  the  crowded 
court-room,  once  more  at  Mr.  Warble  and 
then  burst  into  tears.  Jerroray  put  her  arms 
about  her  quickly  and  soothingly  patted  her 
back  and  murmured  words  of  sympathy  and 
comfort. 

"  We  have  not  heard  the  witness's  answer 
to  the  last  question, ' '  said  Mr.  Warble,  com- 
placently, "but  I  think  we  all  understand. 
I  have  finished  with  her,  and  unless  Colonel 
Trout  desires  to  cross-examine  her  she  might 
be  excused. ' ' 

T^om  Norrie  whispered  energetically  to 
Colonel  Trout,  who  released  the  witness  with 
apparent  reluctance,  and  upon  the  proviso 
that  he  might  call  her  later  for  the  defence 
after  she  had  recovered  from  the  severity  of 
the  attorney-general's  brutal  cross-examina- 
tion. 

Then  the  State  called  to  the  witness  stand 
one  George  M.  Drain.  The  name  was  en- 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  289 

tirely  unfamiliar  to  Tom,  but  the  person  who 
appeared  in  answer  to  it  was  his  old  friend 
Trilby,  of  the  Den  of  Thieves.  He  looked 
at  Tom  with  a  hateful  smile,  and  calmly 
swore  that  he  was  the  train  robber,  Tom 
Nelson.  His  story  was  brief,  but  telling. 
He  had  known  Nelson  but  six  weeks  or 
thereabouts,  had  met  him  several  times  at 
a  gambling  den  in  Bloomer,  known  as  the 
Yeller  Hell,  had  been  invited  by  him  to 
join  his  gang,  and  had  been  in  all  the  hold- 
ups. But  remorse  for  the  wicked  life  he  was 
leading,  into  which  he  had  been  drawn  by 
the  fascinations  and  influence  of  the  prisoner, 
being  himself  but  twenty  years  old,  inexper- 
ienced and  of  an  artless  and  confiding  nat- 
ure (here  the  crowd  laughed  derisively)  had 
led  him  to  reflect  seriously,  and  he  had  fin- 
ally reached  the  conviction  that  the  only 
way  in  which  he  could  retrieve  his  errors 
was  to  give  his  evil  accomplices  away  to 
the  State.  (Hisses  and  jeers.)  In  the  last 
hold-up,  the  occasion  on  which  the  prisoner 
had  been  captured,  he  was  sent  forward 
early  in  the  day  with  two  other  men  to  see 
that  the  coast  was  clear,  to  board  the  train 
at  Aurora,  and  to  stop  it  at  the  point  agreed 
on.  The  other  two  men  were  to  conceal 
19 


290        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

themselves  on  the  tender  and  hold  up,  at  the 
proper  time,  the  engineer  and  express  agent 
respectively,  while  his  duty  was  to  follow 
the  conductor  out  the  moment  the  train 
slackened,  and  then  hold  him  up  before  he 
could  leap  from  the  car.  This  was  their 
usual  method,  though  at  times  they  varied  it 
in  order  to  avert  suspicion.  He  had  carried 
out  the  program  exactly  as  ordered  by  his 
captain,  the  prisoner,  with  the  one  excep- 
tion that  while  waiting  about  Aurora  he  had 
called  on  the  sheriff,  and  then,  not  finding 
him,  on  the  city  marshal.  The  result  was 
than  an  Arms  palace  horse-car  had  been  tel- 
egraphed for  to  Bloomer  and  was  attached  to 
the  long  train  just  at  the  moment  it  drew 
out  from  Aurora.  The  stop  was  made  about 
five  miles  farther  on,  but  the  gang  of  rob- 
bers took  alarm  before  the  marshal  and  his 
posse  could  get  their  horses  out  of  the  car, 
and  thus,  having  the  start  of  them,  mostly 
escaped.  The  only  way  he  could  account  for 
Nelson  himself  being  the  one  man  caught  was 
that  some  of  the  others  must  have  reached  first 
the  spot  where  all  the  horses  were  fastened, 
and  taken  the  boss's  fleet  thoroughbred.  She 
was  fast  as  the  wind,  and  if  he'd  been  on  her 
they'd  never  have  had  a  sight  of  him. 


THE  LAW'S  COURSE  291 

All  this  story  was  told  with  such  an  inde- 
scribable air  of  cynical  hypocrisy  and  such 
evident  venom,  that  its  narrator  became  the 
object  of  the  general  disgust  of  the  audience. 
He  was  hissed  frequently,  and  such  words  as 
sneak,  tell-tale,  and  traitor  were  cast  at  him 
in  stage  whispers  by  his  many  ill-wishers  in 
the  crowd. 

But  he  kept  his  eye  on  the  jury  and  his 
evil,  self-satisfied  smile  never  once  left  him. 

"  It's  Tom  Nelson  or  nothing  now,"  said 
Tom  Norrie  as  the  court  adjourned  here  for 
dinner.  Jerroray  brought  Janet  to  speak  to 
him  before  he  was  taken  back  to  the  jail,  and 
he  had  a  few  moments'  talk  with  her.  She 
was  too  agitated  to  say  much,  and  they  were 
constrained  both  by  the  people  about  them 
and  the  thought  of  what  had  happened  at 
their  last  interview.  She  told  him  brokenly 
of  her  indignation  at  being  held  up.  Then 
a  slight  illness  of  her  aunt  had  kept  them  in 
Salt  Lake  City,  and  when  they  heard  there 
of  the  capture  of  the  outlaw  all  Janet's  fight- 
ing instincts  had  come  to  the  fore,  and  she 
had  resolved  to  carry  out  her  threat  and 
meet  him  in  the  court-room  as  a  witness  for 
the  prosecution.  She  had  taken  the  journey 
back  alone,  much  against  her  aunt's  will. 


292        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  Glad  as  I  am  to  have  found  you,  Tom, 
what  I  have  done  simply  breaks  my  heart." 
Her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  she  could  say  no 
more,  and  Tom  was  led  away  from  her  by 
his  impatient  guard. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   COURSE   OF    THE   OUTLAW 

As  Tom  Norrie  was  brought  back  into  the 
court-room  at  two  o'clock,  the  first  person 
he  saw  was  the  outlaw  himself.  He  was  ap- 
parently in  the  character  of  the  well-dressed 
and  urbane  drummer,  and  he  wore  the  fa- 
miliar little  quizzical  smile  which  had  been 
so  important  a  part  of  his  make-up  therein. 
He  nodded  pleasantly  to  Tom,  but  there  was 
somehow  in  his  look  a  coolness,  or  aloofness, 
Tom  could  scarcely  say  what,  that  sent  an 
instant  chill  to  his  heart.  In  his  strong  lik- 
ing for  Tom  Nelson,  under  the  spell  as  it 
were  of  his  charm,  and  influenced  by  the 
unbounded  confidence  of  Jerroray,  it  had 
never  once  entered  his  head  that  the  outlaw 
could  betray  him.  He  might  be  unequal  to 
the  task  of  saving  him,  or  even  fail  to  ap- 
pear at  all,  but  betray  him,  never  !  Now, 
as  the  thought  flashed  across  him,  Tom  saw 
how  completely  he  was  in  the  man's  power, 


294       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

and  how  unlikely  it  was  that  he  would  sac- 
rifice himself  to  save  a  person  whom  he  had 
not  known  a  fortnight.  He  thought  of  hard 
labor  in  state-prison  for  twenty  years,  and 
turned  sick  all  through,  and  closed  his  eyes 
and  dropped  his  head  on  his  hand  with  a 
sense  of  terrible  faintness.  Why  had  he  been 
so  foolhardy,  so  reckless  as  to  stake  his 
whole  life  upon  a  cast — to  throw  up  every- 
thing for  a  momentary  pleasure  in  danger,  a 
foolish  idea  of  proving  that  he  was  not  a 
coward  ? 

He  might  have  gone  to  Cuba  and  fought 
with  the  patriots  there  for  their  independ- 
ence, and  died,  perhaps,  on  some  battle- 
field, a  hero's  death.  That  would  have 
been  a  happy  ending — but  this  !  And  would 
it  break  Janet's  heart  ?  Would  she  feel  her- 
self to  blame  ? — doubly  to  blame  ?  Would 
it  spoil  her  life,  too  ?  Ah,  he  must  prevent 
that  at  least ;  he  must  do  something  to 
check  her  remorse  and  convince  her  that  she 
was  in  no  sort  responsible.  Thinking  thus 
he  plucked  up  courage  and  faced  the  sit- 
uation again,  squarely.  There  was  still  a 
chance  that  Tom  Nelson  was  there  as  Jack 
Potts  in  mere  bravado,  and  that  he  would 
amuse  himself  with  riddling  the  case  of  the 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW   295 

prosecution  with  holes  and  using  Mr.  War- 
ble as  a  target  for  his  wit. 

Court  opened,  and  Mr.  Warble,  with  an 
air  of  satisfaction  that  he  could  not  all  con- 
ceal, called  the  name  of  John  H.  Potts. 
Tom  Nelson  arose,  was  sworn,  and  duly 
took  his  place  on  the  witness-stand.  The 
first  part  of  the  examination  brought  out  the 
facts  that  he  was  a  drummer,  resident  in 
Chicago,  and  travelling  for  a  firm  there; 
that  he  had  been  in  Aurora  ten  days  since 
and  had  gone  on  in  the  pursuit  of  his  busi- 
ness. Hearing  of  the  capture  of  the  train- 
robber  he  had  written  his  friend  Mr.  Keach 
of  his  willingness  to  tell  what  he  knew  at 
the  trial.  Mr.  Keach,  after  communicating 
with  the  prosecuting  attorney,  had  informed 
him  of  the  time  when  it  would  occur ;  and 
at  much  inconvenience  to  himself  he  had 
returned  from  another  part  of  the  State  to 
testify. 

Then  he  narrated  rapidly — all  the  while 
in  the  hoarse  voice  of  Jack  Potts,  so  differ- 
ent from  the  smooth  accents  of  Tom  Nelson 
— the  occurrences  of  his  first  meeting  with 
the  prisoner  in  the  bar-room  of  the  Empire 
Hotel  at  Bud,  his  immediate  recognition  of 
the  likeness  of  his  voice  to  that  of  the  out- 


296        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

law,  and  consequent  suspicion  that  he  was 
not  the  J.  Chance  he  claimed  to  be,  and  his 
decision  to  follow  him  to  Aurora  on  the 
morning  train.  He  said  that  the  words  and 
actions  of  the  prisoner  grew  more  and  more 
suspicious,  the  conversation  being  largely 
about  the  train  robber,  and  about  the  pris- 
oner's intention  to  recover  from  him  the 
diamonds  he  had  taken  from  Miss  Geraldine 
Roray.  Then  when  the  prisoner  dropped 
his  handkerchief,  and  at  once  disowned  it 
on  having  the  tell-tale  initials  of  T.  N. 
pointed  out  to  him,  he,  the  witness,  no 
longer  had  a  doubt,  and  everyone  else  in  the 
car  surmised  at  once  that  Mr.  Chance  was 
really  Tom  Nelson. 

"  I  object,  your  Honor,"  interrupted 
Colonel  Trout,  ' '  to  allowing  this  young 
man  to  argue  the  case  himself — especially," 
he  added  in  his  most  sardonic  manner,  "  as 
he  deprives  my  distinguished  colleague  of 
the  unaccustomed  and  valued  privilege  of 
arguing  before  a  jury." 

"Mr.  Potts,"  said  the  Court,  "please 
confine  yourself  to  what  happened.  We 
don't  care  to  know  your  suspicions  and  sur- 
mises, or  any  one  else's.  Just  tell  us  the 
facts  as  you  saw  them." 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW   297 

Thus  adjured,  the  outlaw  gave  briefly  the 
occurrences  at  the  Palace  Hotel,  and  told  of 
his  attempt  to  save  the  prisoner,  and  his  sug- 
gestion to  him  to  get  out  of  the  way  as  quick 
as  he  could.  Then  he  narrated,  just  as  they 
happened,  the  escape  and  his  pretended  pur- 
suit in  order  to  divert  ill  will  from  himself; 
while  Tom  Norrie  marvelled  at  his  cleverness 
throughout  in  not  once  perjuring  himself. 

"Have  you  seen  the  prisoner  since?" 
asked  Mr.  Warble. 

"  I  have,"  declared  the  witness. 

"  Tell  just  where  and  when." 

"  My  business  took  me  on  the  train  at  the 
time  of  the  last  hold-up,  the  night  on  which 
the  prisoner  was  caught,  and  though  masked, 
I  saw  him  close  at  hand  and  recognized  him 
instantly.  He  saw  me  and  knows  that  I 
recognized  him.  He  cannot  deny  that  he 
was  there. ' '  Tom  Nelson  looked  directly  at 
Tom  Norrie  as  he  said  this,  and  our  hero 
turned  pale  at  the  cold  perfidy  of  his  smile. 

Colonel  Trout,  with  all  his  fighting  in- 
stincts aroused,  began  at  once  on  the  cross- 
examination.  He  started  in  to  make  the 
outlaw  confess  first  that  he  was  no  drummer, 
and  that  his  pretence  to  be  so  was  merely  a 
cover  for  other  and  less  legitimate  business. 


298       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

But  Tom  Nelson  was  ready  for  him  at  every 
turn,  produced  on  demand  his  notebook  and 
record  of  sales,  and  even  called  up  an  Au- 
rora jeweller  in  the  audience,  who  would 
testify  that  he  had  sold  him  a  bill  of  goods 
only  ten  days  before.  The  colonel  was  ap- 
palled at  this  cleverness  and  foresight. 

"The  man's  too  smart  for  us,"  he  said 
aside  to  Tom.  "If  we  cross-examine  him 
on  the  hold-up  he'll  be  all  ready  for  us  there, 
as  he  has  been  here,  and  just  clinch  the 
whole  thing  tighter.  I'll  ask  him  one  more 
question  in  order  to  get  in  Miss  Roray's 
evidence  later,  and  then  I'll  drop  him  like 
a  hot  potato  and  be  glad  to  be  done  with 
him. ' '  He  turned  once  more  to  the  witness. 
"  Did  you  not  on  the  day  of  the  escape  of 
the  prisoner  from  Aurora  make  the  statement 
that  he  was  not  Tom  Nelson  ?  ' ' 

"I  can't  remember  particularly  saying 
anything  of  that  sort,"  said  Jack  Potts,  eas- 
ily, but  assuming  a  puzzled  expression. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  that's  enough,"  said  the 
colonel,  with  all  the  air  of  being  victor, 
rather  than  vanquished. 

Jack  Potts  sat  down,  and  Mr.  Warble  de- 
clared, triumphantly : 

"  The  prosecution  rests." 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      299 

After  the  usual  formal  motion  on  the  part 
of  Colonel  Trout  to  dismiss  the  indictment 
and  discharge  the  prisoner  because  of  the 
entire  lack  of  evidence  against  him,  and  an 
equally  formal  denial  on  the  part  of  the 
Court,  the  case  for  the  defence  began. 

Colonel  Trout  did  not  spend  much  on 
flourish  in  his  opening  address,  but  after 
calling  the  jury's  attention  to  the  superlative 
and  gilt-edged  respectability  of  the  firm  to 
which  his  client  belonged,  as  evidenced  by 
the  enormous  volume  of  their  business,  noted, 
with  telling  brevity,  the  points  he  proposed 
to  make  to  controvert  those  of  the  prosecu- 
tion. He  pointed  out  the  ridiculous  aspect 
of  the  so-called  evidence  brought  in  to  prove 
that  the  prisoner  was  the  author  of  the  latest 
hold-up.  Then,  claiming  that  he  had  shown 
conclusively  that  they  couldn't  even  prove 
that  he  was  there  at  all,  he  stated  that  his 
client,  however,  was  perfectly  willing  to  ad- 
mit that  he  was  there,  would  explain  how 
and  why,  and  was  anxious,  in  short,  to  tell 
his  whole  story  on  the  witness-stand.  The 
prisoner's  fearless  and  confident  innocence 
had  been  a  lesson  to  him  through  his  brief 
association  with  him.  He  desired  to  tell  the 
entire  truth  to  the  jury  with  the  most  com- 


300        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

plete  frankness,  and  contrary  as  this  was  to 
the  usual  course  of  procedure,  he,  Colonel 
Trout,  was  perforce  won  over  to  a  reluctant 
but  absolute  belief  in  its  advisability  in  this 
particular  case.  Telling  the  truth,  then, 
would  be  the  case  for  the  defence ;  and  af- 
ter that  they  would  conclusively  prove  that 
at  the  time  of  the  four  previous  hold-ups 
the  prisoner  had  been  far  from  Rising  Sun 
County,  and  could  not  possibly  be  the  author 
of  this  tremendous  conspiracy. 

So  Tom  told  his  truthful  tale  of  the  last  six 
eventful  weeks  of  his  life,  touching  briefly 
upon  his  whereabouts  on  the  three  earliest 
dates,  becoming  fuller  in  details  after  his  ar- 
rival at  Bud  on  the  night  of  the  fourth  rob- 
bery, retailing  Tom  Nelson's  own  story  to 
him  of  the  inner  meaning  of  the  happenings 
on  the  train  and  in  Aurora,  and  giving  a  full 
and  graphic  account  of  all  the  later  occur- 
rences. 

The  crowd  smiled  at  his  statements  about 
the  wonderful  black  mare  that  Jack  Potts 
brought  him  to  escape  on,  and  about  that 
gentleman's  direction  of  him  to  so  equivocal 
a  place  of  safety.  They  were  sympathetic- 
ally amused  at  the  account  of  his  reception 
in  the  robber's  camp  by  the  robber's  gang, 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      301 

and  they  liked  the  story  of  Trilby's  thrash- 
ing. But  they  smiled  again  when  he  stated 
that  it  was  because  of  the  thrashing  that 
Trilby  had  a  spite  against  him,  and  swore 
now  that  he  was  Tom  Nelson.  Then  he  told 
them  that  at  the  time  of  the  fifth  train  rob- 
bery he  was  left  behind  at  the  Den,  in  the 
custody  of  the  hostler,  the  Chinaman,  and 
the  boy,  and  they  laughed  outright.  And,  in 
spite  of  the  Judge's  reprimand,  they  laughed 
again  when  he  said  he  went  to  the  sixth  as 
a  prisoner,  and  unarmed ;  that  at  the  time 
of  the  alarm  and  the  hurried  escape  he  had, 
of  his  own  motion,  given  himself  up  to  be 
caught,  to  save  his  friend  Tom  Nelson ;  and 
that  the  only  thing  he  had  refused,  and  must 
still  refuse  to  tell,  because  of  the  hospitality 
there  received,  was  the  whereabouts  of  the 
Den  of  Thieves.  The  perfidy  of  his  friend 
might  seem  to  absolve  him  from  all  such 
necessity  of  good  faith,  yet  his  own  sense  of 
honor  in  the  matter  was  too  strong  to  permit 
this. 

But  though  the  crowd  would  not  take  his 
tale  seriously  he  was  mot  to  be  shaken  on 
cross-examination ;  and  Jerroray's  evidence, 
following  at  once  upon  his  own,  and  strictly 
corroborating  it  all,  so  far  as  it  went,  made 


302        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

a  very  evident  good  impression.  Colonel 
Trout  managed  to  bring  in  with  her  story  a 
great  deal  to  cast  suspicion  on  Jack  Potts, 
yet  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  the  helpless  and 
indignant  Mr.  Warble  no  chance  to  object. 
Then  at  the  end  he  said  : 

"  You  have  heard  Mr.  Potts's  evidence  to 
the  effect  that  the  prisoner  is  Tom  Nelson  ?  ' ' 

"Yes." 

"Have  you  ever  had  any  conversation 
with  him  on  that  subject  ? ' ' 

"I  should  smile  !  He  told  me  in  so  many 
words,  on  the  day  he  helped  Chance  to  get 
away  from  my  house,  that  he  warn't  Tom 
Nelson  ;  that  he  knew  it,  an*  could  prove  it 
to  me,  but  he  hadn't  time  then,  because  he 
had  to  go  after  him.  An'  he  said  he  was 
an  Eastern  tenderfoot,  an'  a  Harvard  man, 
out  here  on  a  lark  under  an  assumed  name. ' ' 
(Great  sensation  in  court-room.) 

"Was  that  all  he  said?" 

"  Well,  it  was  enough  to  make  me  as  cock- 
sure as  he  was.  But  then  I  had  another 
reason  for  bein'  certain  he  was  right." 

"Oh,  you  had?  Well,  tell  us  what  this 
reason  was." 

"  About  the  best  you  could  get.  I've  seen 
the  real  Tom  Nelson." 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      303 

"  You  have  known  Tom  Nelson  and  talked 
with  him  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  have." 

"  Under  his  own  name  ?  " 

"Well,  not  exactly  !  " 

"  Under  what  name,  then  ?  " 

"  Under  the  name  of  Jack  Potts." 

"  That  will  do,"  said  Colonel  Trout,  and 
Jerroray  sat  down  amid  increased  sensation. 

"  I  have  not  finished  with  the  witness," 
said  Mr.  Warble,  severely.  "Miss  Roray, 
you  say  that  my  witness,  this  estimable  gen- 
tleman, Mr.  John  H.  Potts,  is  Tom  Nelson. 
How  do  you  know  this?  " 

"  Because  I'm  sure  of  it." 

"  Well,  but  how  are  you  sure  of  it?  " 

' '  Because  I  know  it. ' '  Everybody  laughed 
and  Mr.  Warble  became  more  severe. 

' '  Have  you  ever  addressed  him  as  Tom 
Nelson?" 

"Why,  no-o  !  "  said  Jerroray,  surprised 
by  the  question. 

"  Has  he  himself  ever  admitted  to  you 
that  he  was  Tom  Nelson  ? ' ' 

«  Well — he  didn't  need  to " 

"Answer  directly,"  said  Mr.  Warble,  re- 
peating the  question,  and  Jerroray  was  ob- 
liged to  say  that  he  hadn't. 


304       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  Did  some  one  tell  you,  then,  that  he  was 
Tom  Nelson?" 

"Did  you  think  I  just  guessed?"  said 
Jerroray,  derisively,  but  was  again  pinned 
down  to  the  categorical  response. 

"  Was  it  possibly  the  prisoner,  Mr.  Chance, 
who  told  you  so. ' ' 

"  Well,  yes  ;  he  has  told  me." 
"  Has  anybody  else  told  you  so  ?  " 
"  I  don't  know  's  anybody  else  has." 
"  That's  all,  that's  all,"  said  Mr.  Warble, 
briskly. 

Biddy  and  Ernest  were  called  to  confirm 
Jerroray's  evidence,  which  they  did  effect- 
ually. Biddy  told  an  excellent  story  of 
Micky's  connection  with  the  gentleman  who 
had  testified  as  John  H.  Potts,  and  how  he'd 
made  Micky,  and  she  liked  him  herself,  and 
didn't  want  to  go  back  on  him,  but  divil  a 
bit  would  she  let  him  send  an  innocent  man 
to  prison  and  cut  up  high  jinks  with  her 
Jerry's  affections.  She  didn't  know  whether 
he  was  any  train  robber  or  not — she'd  never 
seen  him  rob  trains — and  she  wasn't  sure 
whether  his  name  was  Potts  or  Nelson  or 
Jones  or  Smith,  but  he  owned  the  black 
mare,  that  was  straight.  Micky' d  run  away 
so  he  needn't  testify  to  it,  and  she  presumed 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      305 

Micky  might  know  his  name,  but  she  didn't 
know  all  Micky  knew,  any  niore'n  he  knew 
all  she  knew,  and  she  hoped  anyway  no- 
body'd  ever  go  to  state-prison  on  account  of 
what  either  of  'em  knew,  and  she'd  oughter 
go  home  an'  finish  up  her  bakin'  instead  of 
sittin'  'round  here  with  a  court  and  wastin' 
all  her  time. 

"  She's  your  witness,  Warble,"  said  the 
colonel,  when  the  laugh  had  subsided. 

"  I  don't  want  her,"  said  Mr.  Warble,  in 
a  tone  so  genuine  that  everybody  laughed 
again. 

The  colonel,  in  trying  to  establish  the 
prisoner's  good  character,  succeeded  in 
bringing  out  through  Janet  the  fact  that  in 
the  pious  city  of  his  birth  Mr.  Norrie  was 
considered  an  estimable  young  man,  and 
that  no  one  would  have  thought  of  his  turn- 
ing train  robber.  But  his  brilliant  idea, 
born  of  the  evidence  she  had  given  for  the 
prosecution,  was  simply  to  prove  that  the 
prisoner  was  too  great  a  coward  anyway  to 
dream  of  doing  anything  of  the  sort.  In 
this  attempt  he  succeeded  in  making  Janet 
very  angry  and  Jerroray  still  angrier,  and 
eliciting  from  both  violent  statements  of  the 
extreme  intrepidity  of  the  prisoner. 
20 


306       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

The  evidence  that  attempted  to  prove  that 
Tom  was  not  there  on  the  occasion  of  the 
four  first  robberies  came  next,  and,  as  Tom 
had  feared,  was  very  shaky  evidence.  He 
had  not  reflected  when  he  kept  such  doubt- 
ful company  that  he  was  destined  to  be 
known  by  it,  so  greatly  to  his  own  detri- 
ment, and  so  soon. 

When  the  defence  rested  Mr.  Warble  im- 
mediately called  Jack  Potts  in  rebuttal. 

"When  Colonel  Trout  asked  you  if  you 
had  ever  stated  that  the  prisoner  was  not 
Tom  Nelson  you  were  unable  to  recollect. 
Has  Miss  Roray's  evidence  that  you  made 
that  statement  to  her  refreshed  your  mem- 
ory?" 

' '  It  has.  I  now  remember  telling  her 
so." 

"  Please  give  your  reasons  for  a  statement 
so  contradictory  to  all  your  evidence  in  the 
trial  to-day  ?  ' ' 

Then  the  outlaw,  with  a  clever  assumption 
of  confusion  and  embarrassment,  explained 
that  he  was  very  much  taken  with  Miss 
Roray;  that  he  saw  how  her  imagination 
was  fired  by  the  thought  of  Tom  Nelson  and 
his  exploits,  and  how  the  idea  that  Mr. 
Chance  might  be  the  train  robber  had  visibly 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      307 

inclined  her  toward  him ;  and  that  thus,  on 
the  basis  of  any  ruse  being  fair  in  love,  he 
had  simply  told  her  what  he  did  in  order 
that  he  might  have  a  fair  chance  to  make 
her  like  him  as  much  as  she  already  liked 
his  rival — darting  one  bold  look  at  her — 
which  would  be  impossible  so  long  as  she 
thought  Mr.  Chance  was  the  train  robber. 

This  plausible  explanation  had  a  most  con- 
vincing sound.  Even  Jerroray  was  puzzled 
by  it,  and  looked  from  one  young  man  to 
the  other,  as  if  she  hardly  knew  the  truth. 
Janet,  sitting  by  her  side,  grew  very  anxi- 
ous, and  whispered  to  her  eagerly,  but  Jer- 
roray only  shook  her  head  vaguely,  as  if  her 
own  uncertainties  prevented  her  from  resolv- 
ing another's. 

It  was  no  use,  thought  Tom  Norrie.  The 
game  was  up,  the  day  was  lost.  It  had 
rested  with  Tom  Nelson,  and  Tom  Nelson 
had  betrayed  him.  He  was  to  go  to  state- 
prison  in  the  outlaw's  place.  He  remem- 
bered how  deeply  but  a  brief  time  since  he 
had  pitied  a  man  he  knew  for  his  sentence 
of  two  years  at  hard  labor — it  seemed  so  bit- 
ter a  thing,  somehow,  for  an  educated  man 
of  delicate  tastes  and  luxurious  habits — and 
now  ten  years  of  it,  at  least,  lay  before  him, 


308        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

and  perhaps  twenty — practically  his  whole 
life.  He  could  not  listen  to  what  followed 
— it  passed  as  in  a  dream.  He  heard  laugh- 
ter now,  and  then  cheers  or  hisses — but  they 
made  no  impression  on  him.  This  was  his 
last  day  in  the  big,  bright  world  ;  he  was  go- 
ing to  be  buried  alive,  and  he  should  never 
see  Janet  again.  He  forgot  Jerroray,  he 
forgot  Tom  Nelson's  perfidy,  he  forgot  every- 
thing except  Janet — never  had  he  realized 
until  then  how  much  he  loved  her. 

Colonel  Trout  filled  all  the  interstices  of 
his  summing-up  with  covert  ridicule,  not 
alone  of  the  eminent  counsel  for  the  prosecu- 
tion, but  of  Boreal,  the  small  provincial  town 
in  which  he  resided,  and  which  had  actually 
had  the  impudence  to  imagine  itself  Bloom- 
er's rival  when  the  capital  of  the  State  was 
selected.  The  colonel  had  a  fine  gift  for 
sarcasm,  and  he  screwed  Mr.  Warble  up  to 
such  a  pitch  of  writhing,  heated  indignation 
that  he  in  turn  provided  the  audience  with  a 
great  laugh  when  he  rose  to  reply  to  Colonel 
Trout  and  nearly  lost  control  of  himself  in 
the  process.  Words  failed  him,  and  for  some 
moments  an  inarticulate  sputtering  of  in- 
tense earnestness  was  all  that  he  could  pro- 
duce. 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      309 

But  the  tragedy  of  the  case  was  not  lost 
sight  of  in  the  humorous  aspects  of  the  coun- 
sel engaged.  Colonel  Trout  was  pre-eminent 
as  an  advocate,  and  he  put  the  case  to  the 
jury  with  an  impassioned  spirit  that  seemed 
almost  to  shake  them.  He  pointed  out  the 
sheer  nonsense  of  the  idea  that  a  man  would 
be  able  in  so  short  a  time  to  come  out  of  the 
East,  get  together  a  gang,  and  conduct  train 
robberies  so  successfully,  on  so  large  a  scale, 
without  an  ounce  of  experience  beyond  a 
tame  business  life  in  what  was  reputed  to  be 
even  the  tamest  of  tame  Eastern  cities.  To 
sacrifice  such  a  young  man,  heedless  and 
reckless,  perhaps,  but  innocent  through  and 
through,  to  a  cool  desperado  like  the  man 
who  had  given  evidence  as  Jack  Potts — this 
would  be  a  cruel  trick  to  play  under  the 
name  of  justice. 

He  showed  clearly  the  absurdity  of  think- 
ing that  so  clever  a  man  as  Tom  Nelson 
would  travel  about  in  the  way  in  which  it 
had  been  proved  that  the  prisoner  did,  with 
a  large  valise  full  of  his  belongings,  all  clearly 
marked  with  his  initials.  Tom  Nelson,  go- 
ing over  the  road  directly  after  one  of  his 
robberies  to  hear  what  people  might  say  of 
him,  would  carry  with  him  the  least  possible 


310       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

luggage,  after  the  manner  of  the  so-called 
Jack  Potts,  being  then  always  ready  for  in- 
stant flight,  and  leaving  no  incriminating 
evidence  behind  him. 

Moreover,  the  real  robber  would  be  no 
such  fool  as  to  pretend  that  he  had  never 
heard  of  the  train  robberies,  and  then  talk  of 
nothing  but  of  them  and  their  perpetrator ; 
whereas  a  young  man  like  Mr.  Norrie,  com- 
ing in  search  of  adventures  from  the  tame 
East  to  the  wild  West,  would  have  behaved 
exactly  so  ;  nothing  could  be  more  natural 
than  his  interest  in  the  whole  matter. 

A  guilty  man,  too,  would  have  been  fright- 
ened by  the  demonstrations  in  the  bar-room 
of  the  Palace  Hotel,  and  would  have  got  out 
of  town  inside  of  ten  minutes  after  getting 
out  of  the  hotel.  The  prisoner,  on  the  con- 
trary, calmly  went  to  drink  afternoon  tea — 
afternoon  tea,  gentlemen  —  with  a  young 
lady,  who  happened  also  to  be  the  sheriffs 
daughter.  Did  that  look  like  a  guilty  con- 
science or  a  clear  one  ? 

Again,  when  the  prisoner  was  captured 
after  the  last  hold-up,  was  not  his  own  round 
unvarnished  tale  corroborated  by  the  facts  of 
his  being  unarmed  and  mounted  on  an  in- 
ferior nag,  when  it  was  known  that  the  train 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW   311 

robber  himself  rode  the  best  horse  in  all  the 
country  side  ? 

"Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  in  the  prisoner 
at  the  bar,  my  unfortunate,  innocent,  and 
maligned  client,  the  State  recognizes  its  last 
chance.  For  over  a  month  it  has  been,  as 
it  were,  held  at  bay,  by  the  most  audacious 
and  accomplished  villain  that  ever  defied  its 
authority.  The  State  cannot  catch  Tom 
Nelson,  but  its  pride  is  at  stake  and  it  must 
catch  somebody.  So  it  apprehends  an  un- 
armed and  peaceful  citizen,  and  bends  all  its 
energies  to  sending  him  to  state-prison.  It 
amounts  to  a  conspiracy,  gentlemen,  a  con- 
spiracy to  sacrifice  an  innocent  man  to  save 
the  pride  of  the  government.  If  you  or  I, 
gentlemen,  had  been  riding  our  favorite 
horse  on  that'  prairie,  on  that  evening,  we, 
too,  should  have  been  caught  and  declared 
to  be  Tom  Nelson. 

"  Now  let  me  tell  you  how  it  all  occurred. 
Your  most  admirable  sheriff,  a  gentleman 
celebrated  in  his  official  capacity  through- 
out the  whole  State,  is  unfortunately  out  of 
town  when  word  is  brought  of  the  hold-up 
to  occur  on  a  certain  train  at  a  certain  time. 
But  the  city  marshal  of  Aurora,  instead  of 
sending  off  post  haste  after  him,  as  might 


312        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

easily  have  been  done,  is  delighted  with  a 
chance  of  distinguishing  himself — which,  we 
may  remark  parenthetically,  he  has  most  ef- 
fectually accomplished.  He  gets  together  a 
large  band  of  brave  men,  arms  them  to  the 
teeth,  and  they  set  forth  to  hold  up  the 
hold-uppers,  if  I  may  coin  the  word.  But 
do  they  do  it  as  men  of  sense  would  do  it? 
— seat  themselves  like  passengers  in  the  for- 
ward car  and  seize  the  robbers  the  moment 
they  appear  ?  Not  a  bit — not  a  bit,  gentle- 
men !  They  take  along  a  lot  of  useless 
horses  and  tie  themselves  on  to  the  end  of 
the  train.  They  think  they  may  as  well 
combine  pleasure  with  business  and  have  an 
evening  canter  ;  and  anyhow  they  are  safer 
on  horseback,  at  a  distance  from  the  robbers, 
than  within  close  range  of  their  guns.  So 
they  bungle  the  thing  about  as  bad  as  it 
could  be  bungled,  and  let  the  whole  gang  of 
robbers  get  away  in  the  darkness.  Half  a 
dozen  schoolboys,  gentlemen,  could  have 
caught  those  train  robbers,  but  the  city 
marshal  of  Aurora,  with  the  entire  police 
force  of  the  city,  with  deputies  and  horses 
and  all  his  supposed  experience  and  his  won- 
derful courage,  he  was  powerless  to  get  one 
of  'em.  So  then  Marshal  Gosling  says  to 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW       313 

his  men  :  '  Now  we've  come  out  with  all 
these  horses  and  all  this  flourish  we  can't  go 
back  without  somebody ;  the  people  back  in 
Aurora  wouldn't  like  it.  We've  got  to  find 
a  man.  Any  kind  of  a  man  will  do,  but  a 
man  we  must  have.'  So  then  they  cruise 
around  a  while  and  finally  light  on  the 
prisoner.  And  the  marshal  says  to  his  dep- 
uties :  '  Now  he  looks  like  Tom  Nelson, 
he  acts  like  Tom  Nelson,  and  he  speaks  like 
Tom  Nelson.  Let's  call  him  Tom  Nelson  !  ' 
So  then  they  have  a  christening  and  return 
to  Aurora  with  flying  colors.  And  my  in- 
nocent client,  sacrificed  first  to  save  the 
pride  of  the  city  marshal  of  Aurora,  is  now 
being  sacrificed  again  to  save  the  pride  of 
the  attorney-general  of  the  State.  If  this, 
gentlemen,  is  justice,  let  us  demand  injustice; 
if  this  is  right,  let  us  on  our  bended  knees 
sue  for  wrong  !  ' ' 

"  And  to  take  as  conclusive  evidence 
against  the  prisoner  the  testimony  of  such  a 
confessed  criminal  as  the  man  named  Drain," 
went  on  the  colonel — "  a  creature  known  by 
so  low  and  common  a  nickname  as  Trilby, 
which  in  itself  was  enough  to  place  him 
morally  among  the  vilest  scoundrels — yet  a 
man,  too,  who  looked  the  name,  if  any  one 


314        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

could — who  might,  in  short,  be  said  to  be 
a  Trilby  of  the  deepest  dye — a  man  whose 
malice  and  libel  were  amply  accounted  for 
by  the  severe  thrashing  given  him  by  the 
prisoner — to  take  the  evidence  of  such  an 
abandoned  animal,  a  branded  sneak  and  in- 
former, and  put  it  before  that  of  two  such 
exemplary,  innocent,  and  high-minded  young 
people  as  Miss  Geraldine  Roray  and  the 
prisoner — this  was  indeed  a  crime  against 
justice. 

"  Look  on  the  guileless  and  noble  face 
of  the  prisoner,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  and 
then  on  the  scheming  wickedness  of  the 
countenance  of  John  H.  Potts  —  look  on 
them  both,  consider  well,  and  then,  if  you 
can,  send  the  innocent  to  jail  and  let  the 
criminal  go  free !  Tear  this  young  man 
•from  the  arms  of  a  lady  who  loves  him, 
break  up  two  sweet  young  lives,  cast  an  aw- 
ful gloom  on  a  great  commercial  name  of  un- 
tarnished business  integrity,  interfere  with 
nature,  youth,  love,  domestic  joy,  trade,  and 
credit,  and  then,  if  you  can,  call  yourselves 
ever  again  honest  American  citizens  !  " 

The  colonel  sat  down  mopping  his  brow, 
flushed  and  self-satisfied,  after  this  impas- 
sioned appeal.  The  crowd  cheered  him  and 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      315 

some  tender-hearted  ladies  and  gentlemen 
wept  over  his  eloquence. 

Hope  sprang  once  more  in  the  hearts  of 
Jerroray  and  Janet.  The  decision  of  the 
jury  was  again  in  doubt. 

The  eloquent  speech  of  Mr.  Warble,  the 
Judge's  charge — neither  of  them  could  dim 
this  hope.  Then  the  jury  went  out,  the 
twelve  arbiters  of  a  man's  whole  life,  and 
every  one  in  the  audience  asked  his  neighbor 
what  the  verdict  would  be.  There  seemed 
at  least  half  a  chance  for  the  prisoner,  so 
gallant  and  good-looking  a  young  man,  sit- 
ting there  with  his  eyes  fixed  mournfully  on 
the  face  of  the  young  Eastern  lady,  who 
surely  loved  him  now,  whatever  she  had  done 
seven  weeks  before.  The  color  had  come 
back  into  her  dark  face  since  Colonel  Trout's 
strong  effort  for  the  prisoner,  and  sitting  as 
she  did,  side  by  side  with  Jerroray,  such  a 
contrast  to  her  brilliant  fairness  and  bloom, 
she  made  part  of  an  uncommon  picture. 
Jack  Potts  sat  within  two  feet  of  them,  close 
at  Jerroray's  hand,  but  though  she  had 
smiled  at  him  with  a  dazzling  sweetness  on 
her  first  sight  of  him,  she  had  looked  at  him 
but  once  since  he  had  given  his  testimony, 
and  then  only  to  throw  into  his  eyes  a  glance 


316        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

of  flashing  scorn.  He  had  smiled  even  then, 
and  was  smiling  still,  that  little  quiet  smile 
that  gave  him  a  look  of  such  coolness  and 
mastery  and  cynical  indifference.  Jerroray 
stole  a  secret  sidewise  look  at  him  now. 

"  I  suppose  it's  natural  you  should  think  I 
was  in  love  with  your  Tom,  bein"  as  you're 
in  love  with  him  yourself,"  she  said  to  Janet. 
"  And  of  course,  I  do  like  him  awful  well, 
an'  we've  been  awful  good  chums  this  jail 
trip.  But,  my  ! — I  never  saw  but  one  man 
who  could  stir  me  all  up  inside  and  out — an' 
that's  the  one,  that  Jack  Potts,  who's  Tom 
Nelson  just  as  sure  as  I'm  Jerry  Roray.  I 
could  have  loved  him.  Somehow  he  just 
strikes  me  all  of  a  heap,  first  one  way  and 
then  t'other,  for  I  hate  him  now  just  as  much 
as  I  did  like  him.  An'  yet  all  the  time  I 
can't  believe  that  he  won't  get  Tom  Norrie 
off.  I  feel  sure  he  can  do  anything  he  wants 
to,  an'  that  he  wants  to  do  that.  But  if  he 
don't  I'll  never  speak  a  decent  word  to  him 
so  long  as  I  live — I  swear  it !  I  could  stand 
a  coward  better' n  a  sneak  that  gives  away 
his  chums  that  trust  him." 

A  sudden  movement  cut  short  Jerroray's 
further  remarks — for  though  but  ten  min- 
utes had  passed  the  jury  were  coming  back. 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW   317 

Breathless  stillness  held  everyone,  as  they 
moved  into  the  room.  Even  Tom  waked 
from  his  lethargy  and  turned  to  look  at  them 
with  almost  a  ray  of  hope  in  his  heart.  They 
were  looking  at  him,  too,  and  the  foreman 
caught  his  eye  as  the  clerk  put  to  him  the 
usual  formal  questions,  and  faltered  in  the 
words  he  was  about  to  speak,  and  looked 
about  him  in  sudden  embarrassment.  Then 
in  a  moment  more  he  recovered  himself  and 
delivered  the  verdict. 

"Guilty!  " 

Yes,  of  course — it  was  all  over — what  else 
could  have  been  expected  ?  —  Tom  asked 
himself.  He  looked  about  the  court-room 
in  a  dazed  way,  and  again  his  eyes  fell  upon 
the  familiar,  yet  unfamiliar,  face  he  had  seen 
before  in  the  crowd.  The  man  was  looking 
directly  at  him,  with  a  sort  of  friendly  grin, 
and  in  this  moment  of  emotion  it  flashed 
across  Tom  that  it  was  Snide — Snide  with 
his  beard  shaved  off,  and  in  store  clothes, 
yet  unmistakably  Snide  none  the  less.  He 
looked  toward  Nelson  in  a  meaning  way, 
and  Tom  followed  his  eyes.  He  looked 
back  and  Snide  nodded,  then  fixed  his  eyes 
on  someone  far  front  in  the  crowd,  and 
again  Tom  followed  only  to  see  Button. 


3i8        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

The  same  process  was  gone  through  once 
more,  and  this  time  it  was  Gully's  red  head, 
now  close-cropped,  by  which  our  hero's  eyes 
were  refreshed.  Snide  had  apparently  other 
human  facts  to  communicate,  but  some  one 
nudged  the  prisoner,  and  he  found  that  the 
clerk  was  addressing  him,  and  asking  him 
if  he  had  anything  to  say  before  receiving 
sentence. 

"Only  what  I  have  said  before,"  said 
Tom.  rising  and  speaking  with  quiet  firm- 
ness, "that  I  am  an  innocent  man.  My 
own  recklessness,  and  the  perfidy  of  a  man  I 
liked  and  trusted  have  put  me  in  this  com- 
promising situation.  I  can  see,  myself,  how 
much  it  all  looks  against  me,  but  I  ought  to 
be  given  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  Tom 
Nelson,  alias  Jack  Potts,  is  the  man  who 
should  go  to  prison — not  I." 

Colonel  Trout  pleaded  warmly  with  the 
court  for  as  light  a  sentence  as  possible, 
mentioning  the  youth  and  previous  unblem- 
ished record  of  his  client,  Mr.  Norrie,  his 
excellent  connections,  his  position,  and  his 
prospects. 

The  Judge,  plainly  moved,  said  however, 
that  in  many  eyes  all  these  condoning  cir- 
cumstances might  be  thought  aggravating 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW   319 

ones — the  great  opportunities  of  the  prisoner 
making  his  responsibilities  toward  society 
only  the  greater. 

''You  have  had  a  fair  trial  and  been 
found  guilty,"  he  said,  looking  at  Tom,  and 
speaking  with  hesitation,  almost  as  if  he 
were  apologizing  for  justice.  The  prisoner's 
frank  and  serious  face  was  so  convincingly 
innocent  that  it  was  with  an  evident  effort 
that  his  Honor  continued  :  "  It  is  the  sen- 
tence of  this  court  that  you  be  confined  in 
the  state-prison  at  Bloomer,  at  hard  labor, 
for  the  term  of  twenty  years. ' ' 

Janet  gave  a  wild  cry  that  rang  through 
the  court-room.  She  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands  and  bent  her  head  in  complete 
abandon  upon  Jerroray's  lap.  Jerroray  sat 
bolt  upright,  white  as  a  white  rose,  and  red 
as  a  red  one  by  turns,  her  arms  thrown  close 
about  the  form  of  poor  Janet,  shaken  in  its 
grief.  She  turned  her  head  and  darted  one 
burning  look  of  scorn  at  Nelson,  and  met  in 
his  eye  a  smile  of  so  subtle  meaning  that  it 
made  her  heart  stand  still  with  a  sudden  re- 
vulsion of  feeling. 

"There's  still  life,  and  therefore  hope," 
he  murmured.  He  rose,  looked  deliberately 
about  the  crowded  court-room,  then  finally 


320        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

at  the  Judge,  and  asked  for  permission  to 
speak  a  few  words  which  might  establish  the 
innocence  of  the  prisoner.  Strange  as  the 
request  was,  and  without  precedent,  there 
was  something  so  significant  in  the  man's 
face  and  voice  that  the  Court  could  not  deny 
him. 

"It  is  an  unusual  thing  to  ask,  and  an 
unusual  thing  to  permit,"  said  his  Honor, 
"  but  the  peculiarities  of  the  case,  the  rela- 
tion in  which  you  stand  to  it,  and  a  strong 
sense  of  the  innocence  and  integrity  of  the 
prisoner  in  spite  of  the  damning  evidence 
against  him,  lead  me  to  grant  it.  Yet  you 
are  aware  that  in  knowing  the  prisoner  to  be 
innocent,  yet  swearing  to  his  guilt,  you  have 
perjured  yourself,  and  are  hence  guilty  of 
grave  contempt  of  court." 

Tom  Nelson  bowed.  "So  it  might 
seem,"  he  said,  the  assumed  hoarseness  gone 
from  his  tones  at  last ;  and  as  he  spoke  Janet 
lifted  her  head  with  a  startled  look. 

' '  The  voice  !  The  real  voice  !  ' '  she 
cried.  She  looked  at  Tom,  who  was  sud- 
denly smiling,  at  Jerroray,  who  was  radiant, 
at  the  crowd  struck  with  her  cry  and  agog 
with  sudden  expectancy  of  something  ab- 
normal about  to  happen. 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      321 

"So  it  might  seem,"  repeated  Tom  Nel- 
son, bland,  suave,  and  master  of  the  situa- 
tion. "  But  your  Honor  nevertheless  mis- 
takes. My  contempt,  if  I  have  it,  is  in  no 
sort  contempt  of  you  or  of  your  august 
court,  but  rather  the  contempt  of  an  outlaw 
for  all  law,  for  the  travesty  of  justice  which 
rants  up  and  down  the  little  legal  stage. 
But  if  your  Honor  will  condescend  to  look 
over  the  record  of  my  evidence  you  will  see 
that  I  have  nowhere  perjured  myself.  I  re- 
lated things  exactly  as  they  happened,  and 
in  no  place  did  I  state  that  the  prisoner  was 
Tom  Nelson.  That  inference  was  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  heard  what  I  said,  and 
makes  of  all  this  a  very  suggestive  commen- 
tary on  the  value  of  circumstantial  evidence. 
For  while  I  have  said  only  what  is  true,  and 
am  guilty  neither  of  perjury  nor  of  contempt 
of  court,  yet  the  prisoner  was  practically 
convicted  by  my  testimony,  and  I  am  my- 
self, all  the  while,  Tom  Nelson,  the  train 
robber.  [Great  sensation.]  Mr.  Norrie, 
the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  saved  my  life  at  great 
risk  to  his  own  last  week,  and  I  am  come  to- 
day, as  I  promised  him  then,  to  save  him 
from  the  consequences.  He  has  been  reck- 
less and  brave,  but  is  entirely  innocent  of 
21 


322        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

any  and  all  the  crimes  for  which  he  has  been 
so  unjustly  convicted."  Tom  Nelson  pro- 
nounced these  last  words  slowly  and  with 
strong  emphasis,  like  an  actor  who  wishes  to 
make  sure  that  his  point  is  not  missed,  and 
in  truth  the  crowd  broke  at  once  into  tu- 
multuous cheering,  and  it  was  some  min- 
utes before  the  Judge  could  bring  them  to 
order. 

"  This  is  a  most  remarkable  confession, 
at  a  most  remarkable  time,"  he  said.  "In 
all  my  twenty  years  on  the  bench  I  have 
known  of  nothing  like  it."  He  spoke 
gravely,  almost  with  emotion  ;  then  turned 
to  Colonel  Trout  and  asked  him  if  he  had 
any  suggestions  to  make. 

The  colonel  rose  with  great  alacrity,  stat- 
ing that  he  agreed  with  his  Honor  that  it 
was  a  most  extraordinary  occurrence,  and, 
it  seemed  to  him,  required  extraordinary  ac- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  court.  "I  will 
therefore  move  you,  sir,  that  the  conviction 
and  sentence  of  my  client  be  vacated  ;  and, 
that  the  procedure  may  be  orderly,  I  will 
first  make  a  motion  for  a  new  trial,  on  the 
ground  of  this  newly  discovered  evidence 
and  the  manifest  mistake  that  has  been  made. 
And  if  the  attorney-general  insists  in  putting 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      323 

the  county  to  further  expense  in  the  endeavor 
to  convict  an  innocent  man,  I  shall  ask  you 
to  let  the  prisoner  go  on  his  own  recogniz- 
ance pending  this  trial.  And  I  ask  that, 
contrary  to  the  usual  rule  of  procedure,  this 
motion  be  heard  and  disposed  of  at  once." 

The  Judge  said  that  he  was  ready  to  com- 
ply with  these  very  reasonable  suggestions, 
unless  the  attorney-general  had  some  valid 
objections. 

The  county  prosecutor  was  talking  to  Mr. 
Warble  with  great  warmth,  evidently  trying 
hard  to  convince  him  of  something,  and  as 
that  gentleman  said  nothing  in  response  to 
the  Judge's  remark,  Colonel  Trout  asked 
that  Tom  Nelson  be  sworn  upon  this  motion. 
The  outlaw  made  his  full  confession  under 
oath,  telling  his  story  briefly,  humorously, 
and  in  that  "  takin'  "  way  that  Jerrorayhad 
already  noted  as  one  of  his  pleasing  features. 
He  compelled  sympathy  by  his  very  man- 
ner, and  the  crowd,  listening  breathlessly  to 
every  word,  was  altogether  with  him  long 
before  he  finished.  They  applauded  all  the 
jokes  he  made,  and  every  expression  of  re- 
volt against  the  existing  order  of  society. 
These  expressions  were  chiefly  directed 
against  his  own  parent,  to  whom  he  sent 


324       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

several  vivacious  messages  through  the  news- 
paper reporters  present. 

Snide  and  Gully  were  called  by  Colonel 
Trout,  at  Nelson's  suggestion,  to  corro- 
borate his  testimony.  Then  the  colonel, 
after  consulting  a  moment  with  the  outlaw, 
stated  that  there  were  ten  or  more  other  wit- 
nesses to  testify  to  the  same  facts,  but  that 
he  should  prefer  not  to  trouble  the  court 
further — unless,  he  added,  sarcastically,  the 
other  side  should  make  it  necessary  by  their 
case — whatever  it  might  be. 

Mr.  Warble  replied  pompously,  in  re- 
sponse to  the  Judge's  question,  that  he  should 
call  no  witnesses  in  opposition  to  the  mo- 
tion. 

The  Judge  thereupon  announced  that  he 
should  grant  the  motion  for  a  new  trial,  add- 
ing that  the  conviction  and  sentence  were 
thereby  set  aside.  He  then  spoke  slowly  and 
judicially  for  some  moments,  suggesting  that 
if  the  attorney -general  were  willing,  there 
hardly  need  be  another  trial.  After  this  ex- 
traordinary confession  under  oath,  it  would 
be  very  unlikely  to  find  a  jury  who  would 
convict,  and  the  seemingly  needless  expense 
to  the  county  would  be  great.  If  the  at- 
torney-general wished  time  to  consider — 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      325 

Mr.  Warble  arose  with  greater  airs  of  im- 
portance than  ever,  though  mingled  now 
with  an  evident  sense  of  bitter  injury,  and 
said  that  his  only  desire  was  to  see  justice 
done,  as  he  had  stated  in  his  opening.  He 
should  prefer  to  leave  the  matter  in  the 
hands  of  the  Court,  and  would  cheerfully 
acquiesce  in  any  decision  it  might  arrive  at. 
He  had  come  into  the  case  after  it  was  en- 
tirely prepared  by  his  able  young  friend,  the 
county  prosecutor,  and  had  himself  nothing 
to  do  with  getting  up  the  evidence.  If  he 
had  seen  Mr.  Potts  before  he  went  on  the 
stand  all  might  have  been  otherwise  and  a 
serious  blunder  obviated.  And  he  had  just 
succeeded  in  convincing  his  young  friend 
that  the  interests  of  justice  would  be  better 
subserved  by  the  entry  of  a  nol.  pros,  in  the 
case  of  the  State  against  this  false  Tom 
Nelson  —  keeping  his  eye,  as  he  said  so, 
upon  the  real  Nelson,  who  smiled  at  him 
pleasantly. 

"  Mr.  Clerk,"  said  his  Honor  at  once, 
"  you  may  make  the  entry  of  nol.  pros,  and 
the  order  of  the  court  that  the  prisoner  be 
honorably  discharged."  He  turned  to  Tom 
Norrie  and  apologized  to  him  in  a  dignified 
way  on  behalf  both  of  the  court  and  of  the 


326       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

people  of  the  county,  congratulating  him  on 
his  release  and  winding  up  with  a  few  elo- 
quent remarks  which  were  at  once  applauded 
by  the  excited  and  happy  crowd.  The  Judge 
smiled  indulgently  on  these  demonstrations, 
and  did  not  check  them,  being  well  aware 
of  his  own  eloquence  and  of  the  necessary 
results  upon  an  audience  of  giving  it  rein. 

Mr.  Warble,  on  the  contrary,  being  anxi- 
ous to  speak,  was  greatly  annoyed.  As  soon 
as  the  noise  subsided  he  made  himself  heard, 
with  crushing  dignity.  "  Your  Honor  will, 
of  course,  order  this  hardened  scoundrel,  the 
real  Tom  Nelson,  into  the  custody  of  the 
sheriff,  charged  with  the  crimes  that  he  has 
confessed  committing?" 

"  I  so  order,"  said  the  Judge,  "  and  the 
sheriff  will  do  his  duty." 

The  Terror  of  Aurora,  who  had  seemed 
very  uneasy  for  some  time  and  had  kept  his 
eye  fixed  upon  the  outlaw,  started  with  great 
eagerness  to  do  as  he  was  bid.  He  had  hard- 
ly reached  his  feet  before  Tom  Nelson,  with 
a  smile,  threw  one  arm  high  in  the  air,  and 
upon  the  signal  fifteen  or  twenty  masked 
men  immediately  rose  from  the  crowd  at 
various  points  throughout  the  room,  and  fif- 
teen or  twenty  revolvers,  following  the  direc- 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW   327 

tion  of  the  outlaw's  eyes,  were  feed  upon  the 
sheriff  as  a  target.  In  the  general  excite- 
ment no  one  had  noticed  the  masks  going 
on,  and  every  one  was  taken  by  surprise ; 
many  of  the  women  screamed  and  some  of 
the  men  turned  pale.  The  sheriff,  however, 
only  took  on  a  more  determined  look,  and, 
ripping  out  several  striking  oaths  and  two 
revolvers  as  well,  vowed  he'd  do  his  duty  if 
he  died  on  the  field,  and  called  on  all  good 
citizens  to  help  him.  Riot  and  bloodshed 
might  have  been  the  order  of  the  day  in  less 
than  five  seconds  had  not  Jerroray,  radiant 
with  excitement  and  happiness,  opportunely 
interfered. 

"  Oh,  now,  Terence  Roray,  just  you  come 
off !  "  she  said,  approaching  him  with  an  air 
of  cool  command.  "  What  can  one  dog  do 
against  twenty?  The  court  ain't  armed, 
sure,  'cause  it's  against  the  law  to  carry  con- 
cealed weapons,  an'  if  the  court  ain't  law- 
abidin',  who  is?  So  you've  got  nobody  to 
back  you  up,  an'  you  better  just  put  away 
your  gun.  Tom  Nelson's  an  awful  popular 
gent,  an'  we're  all  on  his  side  here.  So  if 
you  don't  want  to  turn  your  dear  little  toes 
up  in  the  cold  all  alone,  you'd  better  hand 
your  barkers  over  to  me.  I  don't  want  to 


328        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

lose  my  daddy,  an'  I'll  take  good  care  you 
don't  get  'em  back  again  pretty  quick. 
Come,  there's  a  good  dad,"  she  said,  wheed- 
lingly,  grabbing  at  the  revolvers,  "  give  'em 
up  to  your  little  girl  like  an  obedient  parent 
— I  always  know  what's  best  for  you,  Ter- 
ence." 

She  had  already  unbuckled  his  belt  and 
holsters,  and  now  as  he  yielded  to  her  with 
a  shamefaced  laugh,  she  herself  put  them  on 
with  ostentatious  airs  of  unconsciousness  be- 
fore the  crowd,  and  wrapped  the  belt  a  sec- 
ond time  about  her  hour-glass  waist  in  order 
to  be  able  to  buckle  it  at  all.  The  crowd 
was  delighted  and  set  up  three  cheers  for 
Jerroray,  while  she  stood  laughing,  in  full 
view,  as  pleased  as  a  child. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  give  her  three  cheers 
again,"  said  Tom  Nelson,  "as  the  'outlaw's 
bride '  this  time. ' ' 

"  Gracious  !  "  cried  Jerroray,  "  what 
cheek  you  drummers  have  got !  You  haven't 
even  asked  me  yet." 

"But  you  told  me  to  my  face  that  you 
were  in  love  with  Tom  Nelson." 

"That  was  rather  a  giveaway,"  she  ad- 
mitted. 

"  And  besides — here  are  your  diamonds." 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW   329 

"  Well,  that  settles  it,"  she  said.  "I'm 
yours.  But  if  you'd  really  been  the  sneak 
to  go  back  on  Tom  Norrie  you'd  never  have 
laid  a  finger  on  me  !  ' ' 

She  took  his  arm  and  the  crowd  gave  her 
three  cheers,  and  then  three  more  for  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Nelson. 

"That  sounds  nice,"  said  the  outlaw. 
"  We  may  as  well  get  it  fixed  up  right  off. 
Mr.  Roray,  will  you  give  the  bride  away?  " 

The  sheriff  looked  about  at  the  array  of 
revolvers.  "  Well,  yes.  I  suppose  I  may  as 
well,"  he  replied,  and  the  crowd  laughed. 

' '  Will  you  marry  us,  Judge  ?  ' ' 

The  Judge,  looking  on  with  placid  but  ir- 
responsible interest,  was  startled. 

"  Who,  I  ?  I  never  did  such  a  thing  in 
my  life,"  he  said.  "  Don't  know  how,  and 
couldn't  think  of  it." 

"  We'll  take  it  as  a  particular  favor  if  you 
do  all  the  same,"  said  Tom  Nelson,  genially. 
"  The  mayor's  on  hand,  and  he'll  tell  you 
how." 

The  Judge,  like  the  sheriff,  took  a  discreet 
glance  at  the  revolvers  and  consented.  With 
the  mayor  to  prompt  him  he  managed  to 
perform  the  ceremony  very  creditably,  and 
then  received  his  reward  in  the  shape  of  a 


33°        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

most  unexpected  and  resounding  kiss  from 
the  new  Mrs.  Nelson.  The  crowd  shouted 
and  cat-called  again  in  wild  joy. 

"  I'd  kiss  the  jury,  too,  if  I  wasn't  afraid 
they'd  be  embarrassed,"  said  the  bride, 
"  but  you've  got  to  have  one  anyhow,  Ter- 
ence," and  she  enfolded  the  sheriff  in  a  vio- 
lent embrace.  "  I  hate  to  leave  my  good 
old  dad,  but  I  expect  it'll  be  better  for  me 
and  my  husband's,  health  to  take  a  right 
smart  of  a  weddin'  trip. ' ' 

"I  shall  miss  you  awful,  Jerry,"  said  the 
sheriff,  with  feeling. 

"  Not  a  bit  more'n  I'll  miss  you,  Terence 
— but  you'll  come  to  see  us  bime-by  when 
things  ain't  quite  so  lively.  Say,"  she  said 
suddenly  to  Tom  Norrie,  "don't  you  want 
to  get  married  too  ?  ' ' 

"  Nobody  would  think  of  marrying  me," 
he  replied,  with  a  laugh. 

Then  Janet  did  something  that  she  is  proud 
of  now  whenever  she  thinks  of  it,  though 
she  can  never  understand  how  she  came  to  be 
brave  enough  to  do  it  before  all  those  people. 
"  I  will  marry  you,  Tom — if  you  want  me," 
she  said,  with  grave  dignity,  and  flushed  at 
the  cheers  which  rung  out  in  her  honor. 

"  It's  the  wish  of  my  life,"  he  declared. 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW      331 

He  advanced  and  took  her  hand  and  kissed 
it  reverently.  "You  won't  regret  it?  "  he 
whispered. 

"Never!"  she  declared.  "You're  the 
bravest  man  I  ever  knew. ' ' 

The  mayor  performed  the  second  cere- 
mony, it  being  rather  rough  on  the  poor 
Judge  to  work  him  so  hard,  as  Tom  Nelson 
explained,  and  the  second  couple  not  having 
the  same  sentimental  reasons  for  wishing 
him  to  do  the  job  for  them. 

"  Now,"  said  Tom  Nelson  to  the  crowd, 
"  we  want  to  get  out  of  this.  The  question 
is,  have  we  got  to  do  it  by  force  or  are  you 
all  goin'  to  help?" 

"  We'll  stand  by  you  !  " 

"You' re  a  peach  !  " 

"  We'll  see  you  through  !  " 

"  Hurrah  for  Tom  Nelson  !  " 

These  and  many  other  expressions  of  sym- 
pathy poured  out  on  the  evening  air,  and 
Mr.  Nelson  looked  pleased. 

"That's  good,"  he  said.  "Now,  gen- 
tlemen, my  idea  is  this.  The  express  goes 
through  here  in  half  an  hour,  and  I  would 
suggest  that  we  escort  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Norrie 
to  the  train  in  a  body  (cheers),  and  see 
them  off  on  their  weddin'  tour  (redoubled 


332        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

cheers).  But  to  effect  this  pleasin'  little 
plan  it  will  be  necessary  to  keep  Aurora's 
Terror,  my  esteemed  father-in-law,  agreea- 
bly entertained  in  the  interim,  for  I  see  he 
still  has  business  in  his  eye."  He  called 
thereupon  for  volunteers,  formed  them  into 
a  committee  to  entertain  the  sheriff,  and 
suggested  the  Palace  Hotel  bar-room  as  a 
suitable  spot  for  the  festivities.  Handing 
over  a  lot  of  money  to  Mr.  Cutler  Keach, 
he  asked  him  to  provide  the  sheriff  and  party, 
and  all  the  rest  of  the  crowd,  with  their  fa- 
vorite drinks,  and  as  much  of  them  as  they 
could  get  down. 

"  There'll  still  be  somethin'  left  over," 
he  said,  "  but  you  can  keep  that  to  expend 
on  your  further  education  as  a  detective.  I 
think  you  can  do  a  little  in  that  line  some 
time,  if  you  work  hard,"  he  added,  with  a 
smile. 

Trilby  was  then  handed  over  to  the  crowd 
with  recommendations  to  their  mercy. 

"  He  ain't  worth  killin',"  said  Tom  Nel- 
son. "Just  duck  him,  or  give  him  a  lit- 
tle coat  of  tar  and  feathers,  or  somethin'  of 

that  sort.  He's  a  d d  sneak,  but  things 

have  turned  out  so  well  that  I  don't  bear 
him  any  grudge." 


THE  COURSE  OF  THE  OUTLAW   333 

Mr.  Nelson  shook  hands  pleasantly  with 
the  attorney-general,  Colonel  Trout,  and  the 
Judge — a  ceremony  performed  with  humor 
by  the  Court,  cordiality  by  the  colonel,  and 
a  stiff  resistance  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Warble. 
Tom  Norrie  followed  his  example  in  two  of 
the  cases,  and  settled  also  the  natural  anx- 
ieties of  his  counsel  in  regard  to  proper  pay- 
ment for  his  services. 

Then,  bidding  an  affectionate  good-by  to 
to  all  the  court,  they  set  out  for  the  station, 
amid  the  wildest  enthusiasm  on  the  part  of 
the  crowd.  And  as  the  train  drew  out, 
bearing  one  bride  and  groom  to  Salt  Lake 
City,  they  saw  the  other  two  set  off  on  horse- 
back for  the  land  called  Safety,  attended  by 
Gully  and  Snide,  while  Micky,  who  had 
brought  Folly  and  the  Red  Devil,  wiped 
away  several  tears  on  his  sleeve.  Everybody 
cheered,  and  thus  came  to  an  end  the  great- 
est sensation  Rising  Sun  County  had  ever 
known. 


CHAPTER  XV 

YOUR   MONEY   OR  YOUR   LIFE? 

Two  weeks  later,  in  the  golden  afternoon 
of  a  perfect  day,  Tom  and  Janet  were  rest- 
ing from  a  long  climb  by  the  banks  of  a  lit- 
tle mountain  lake.  The  trees  on  the  shore 
were  spreading  and  picturesque,  with  open 
spaces  between  them,  and  a  short  wood- 
land grass  grew  everywhere,  golden  green  as 
the  sun  lay  upon  it,  emerald  and  blue  in  the 
deep  shadows  of  the  trees.  Tom,  in  knick- 
erbockers, was  stretched  at  full  length  on  his 
back  under  a  huge  white  oak,  with  a  protrud- 
ing root  of  the  tree  for  a  pillow.  Janet,  in 
short  skirt  and  leggings,  sat  close  by  in  the 
attitude  of  the  dying  gladiator,  resting  on 
one  hand,  while  with  the  other  she  absent- 
ly pulled  up  the  grass,  leaf  by  leaf. 

They  had  just  received  that  morning,  as 
they  were  setting  out  from  the  hotel  for  their 
day's  jaunt,  a  naive  and  characteristic  epis- 
tle from  Jerroray,  telling  of  the  excitements 


YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE?       335 

of  their  honeymoon  on  the  wing,  and  of 
their  adventurous  plans  for  the  future — Cuba 
first,  for  "  some  real  up  and  down  fighting," 
and  then  a  season  of  "  melting  the  coin  "  in 
"Paree,"  where  they  hoped  ''Terence" 
would  join  them,  and  possibly  Tom  and 
Janet  also.  Our  hero  and  heroine  had  dis- 
cussed these  pleasant  plans  a  little  at  the 
time,  but  now  had  not  mentioned  either  the 
outlaw  or  his  bride  for  several  hours.  And 
for  the  last  ten  minutes  they  had  not  spoken 
at  all. 

"Tom,"  said  Janet,  finally,  "I  can't 
see  what  kept  you  from  falling  in  love  with 
Jerroray . ' ' 

"  Neither  can  I,"  responded  Tom  at  once, 
his  eyes  fixed  on  a  brown  thrush  hopping  about 
among  the  leafy  branches  over  his  head. 

Janet  looked  a  little  dashed  at  the  prompt- 
ness of  this  agreement  with  her  views. 
"  She  was  so  extraordinarily  good-looking," 
she  went  on,  however,  in  a  moment,  "  and 
so  good-tempered  and  kind  and  sympathetic, 
and  so  quick-witted  and  sharp,  and  so  really 
intelligent  by  nature,  and  not  vulgar  in  spite 
of  the  vulgar  people  she  had  lived  with  all 
her  life,  and  so  clear-headed  and  sensible, 
and  so  jolly  and  so  amusing  and  droll ' ' 


336        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  I  should  think  you  had  learned  Soule's 
synonymes  by  heart,"  remarked  Tom. 

"  Well,  I  can't  see  it  at  all." 

"  Neither  can  I — when  I'm  not  looking 
at  it."  Tom  rose  to  a  sitting  posture,  and 
looked  directly  at  his  wife.  "  Now,  how- 
ever, it's  very  visible,"  he  observed. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Janet,  with  a  world  of  pleas- 
ant enlightenment  in  her  voice. 

Tom  clasped  his  knees,  still  looking  at 
Janet.  ' '  I  may  as  well  confess  that  I  tried 
hard  to  fall  in  love  with  her,  but  though  I 
was  sure  that  you  were  nothing  to  me,  I 
couldn't  get  you  out  of  my  head." 

Janet  looked  as  if  this  were  a  gratifying 
fact.  "  It  would  have  served  me  right  if 
you  had,"  she  said. 

"But  you  really  wouldn't  have  cared 
much,"  said  Tom,  after  a  moment's  silence. 
"  It  was  only  the  dramatic  way  the  thing 
happened  that  made  you  think  you  liked  me 
again.  I  never  ought  to  have  taken  so  base 
an  advantage  of  you  as  to  marry  you  at  such 
a  moment  of  excitement." 

"Tom,"  said  Janet,  gravely,  laying  her 
hand  upon  his  arm,  "  the  excitement  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  knew  the  moment 
you  left  me,  that  last  evening  at  home,  that 


YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE?       337 

I  had  made  an  awful  mistake ;  that  I  loved 
you  more  than  I  ever  did ;  that  it  was  be- 
cause I  loved  you  that  I  had  felt  and  be- 
haved as  I  did.  I  could  think  of  nothing 
but  you  day  and  night,  and  I  had  made  up 
my  mind,  Tom,  that  if  you  took  me  at  my 
word  and  let  me  go,  and  never  came  back, 
that  I — well,  that  I  should  appear  in  the 
role  of  Strephon  again,  and  go  after  you  !  " 

Tom  now  looked  as  gratified  as  Janet  had 
done  a  moment  since,  but  his  expression  of 
this  feeling  was  of  a  purely  inarticulate 
nature. 

After  a  few  moments  Janet  reopened  the 
conversation.  "  There's  one  thing  you  said 
that  I  want  to  go  back  to.  Why  did  you 
try  to  fall  in  love  with  Jerroray?  " 

"Oh,"  said  Tom,  "that's  very  compli- 
cated. There  were  lots  of  reasons." 

"Well,  tell  me  them  all." 

"Oh,  they  wouldn't  all  interest  you,  but 
I'll  tell  you  some  of  them." 

"  I  insist  on  having  them  all." 

"One  reason,"  said  Tom,  ignoring  this 
last  speech,  "  was  to  prove  to  myself  that  I 
was  utterly  indifferent  to  you.  I  was  confi- 
dent, of  course,  that  I  was  so,  but  still  the 
positive  proof  would  be  pleasant. ' ' 


338        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Janet,  smiling. 

"Another  was  that  she  was  so  good-look- 
ing." 

Janet  stopped  smiling.  "  Do  you  really 
think  looks  are  of  any  importance  when  you 
love  a  person?  "  she  inquired,  with  an  air  of 
fine  scorn. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  important,  but  it's  pleasant 
to  have  a  good-looking  person  around  all  the 
time,  you  know." 

Janet  grew  thoughtful.  ' '  Tom, ' '  she  said, 
and  then  stopped. 

"Well?"  asked  Tom. 

"  Oh,  nothing — I  was  just  going  to  ask 
you  a  question  of  no  account. ' ' 

"But  it's  the  questions  of  no  account 
that  are  always  the  most  interesting." 

"Oh,  no,  this  isn't  interesting." 

"  But  ask  it,  and  let  me  judge." 

"  No,  I'll  ask  another.  Don't  you  think 
fair  women  are  always  much  more  beautiful 
than  dark  ones  ?  ' ' 

"Why,  no — not  always." 

"But  almost  always,"  persisted  Janet; 
"  they  look  so  much  purer — and  whiter — 
like  angels. ' ' 

"Well,  perhaps,"  said  Tom,  and  Janet 
became  very  grave.  "  But  I  know  one  dark 


YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE?       339 

woman,"  he  added,  "  who  is  more  beautiful 
than  any  blonde  I  have  ever  seen." 

The  clouds  broke  into  sunshine  on  Janet's 
face.  "Oh,  Tom,"  she  cried,  "I  know 
you  don't  think  I'm  half  so  good-looking  as 
Jerroray  !  ' ' 

"  Well,  I  didn't  say  that,  did  I?  " 

"Oh,  Tom  !  " 

"  I  think  you're  a  great  deal  better-looking 
than  Jerroray,  or  any  other  woman  I've  ever 
seen,"  said  Tom,  fatuously,  quite  forgetting 
the  contrary  opinion  he  had  lately  held 
when  living  in  the  direct  light  of  Jerroray's 
countenance. 

"Oh,  Tom!  do  you  really  think  so?  I 
thought  her  the  most  beautiful  person  I'd 
ever  seen,  and  I  know  I  can't  compare  to 
her,  but  I  do  like  to  have  you  think  so  !  " 

"And  you  a  college  girl,"  said  Tom. 
"Women  are  all  alike." 

"  Now  tell  me  the  other  reasons  why  you 
tried  to  fall  in  love  with  Jerroray,"  de- 
manded Janet,  becoming  practical  again. 

"Oh,  I  hoped  you'd  forget  that,"  said 
Tom.  "  Well,  I  thought  she'd  be  very 
pleasant  and  easy  to  live  with,  so  easy  and 
good-tempered  and  jolly — all  the  things  you 
just  said  about  her. ' ' 


34°        YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

"And  is  that  all?" 

"I  think  so,"  said  Tom,  mendaciously. 

"Tom,  you're  not  telling  the  truth — 
there's  something  else." 

"  But  I  don't  wish  to  say  it." 

"Sol  perceive,  but  you  needn't  try  to 
evade  me." 

"  Well,  it  was  simply  that  if  I  married  her, 
she — you  see,  she's  not  been  brought  up  in 
luxury — she  wouldn't  want — I  mean  she'd 
not  mind " 

"Now,  Tom,  you  must  tell  me  the  plain 
truth.  If  we  can't  be  openly  honest  with 
each  other  we'd  better  dissolve  partnership 
at  once.  Besides,  I  know  what  you  were 
going  to  say — that  if  you  married  Jerroray 
you'd  not  need  to  slave  yourself  to  death 
keeping  up  an  expensive  establishment,  with 
lots  of  servants  and  horses  and  expensive 
gowns  for  your  wife." 

"  Jerroray  is  very  fond  of  good  clothes," 
observed  Tom. 

"But  wasn't  that  it?" 

"  Possibly — something  like  it." 

"Well.  I've  been  thinking  about  that, 
too,  ever  since  what  you  said  to  me  that 
night  about  hating  your  business.  And — and 
I've  come  to  a  conclusion." 


YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE?       341 

"  Break  it  to  me,"  said  Tom,  cheerfully. 
"  I  can  bear  it." 

"That's  what  I've  been  meaning  to  do 
every  day  since  we  were  married,  only  there 
hasn't  been  time.  This  is  it.  You're  not 
to  go  back  into  the  business." 

Tom  started.  "  How  do  you  propose  to 
live?"  he  asked,  after  a  moment.  "Can 
you  use  that  costume  for  a  dinner  gown — 
and  dine  on  air  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Janet;  "but  all  the  same 
It  doesn't  seem  necessary  to  me  to  sell  our 
lives  in  order  to  exist  in  luxury — or  rather, 
to  sell  your  life.  I  have  thought  it  all  out  in 
these  weeks  since  we  parted.  I  saw  first 
how  selfish  and  unsympathetic  I  was  to  you 
during  our  engagement,  and  I  regretted  it 
bitterly.  And  then  I  realized  suddenly  how 
much  sacrifice  I  had  expected  of  you  through- 
out our  life,  and  how  little  I  expected  of 
myself.  Most  women  feel  the  same  and  do 
the  same,  but  it  really  isn't  "our  fault  so 
much  as  the  fault  of  the  way  in  which 
we  are  brought  up.  But  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  when  I  had  won  you  back  I 
wasn't  going  to  have  you  sell  your  life 
to  pay  for  the  money  to  buy  my  luxuries, 
that  we  would  share  our  life  equally,  its 


342'      YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

hardships  and  its  joys,  and  have  one  equal 
rule  for  each." 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Tom.  What  was  happen- 
ing seemed  to  him  a  miracle,  and  one  more 
proof  that  in  their  mutual  divination  he  and 
Janet  were  made  for  each  other. 

"  It  seemed  to  me  that  it  was  the  question 
of  the  highway  robber  over  again — and  that 
was  before  I  knew  anything  about  highway 
robbers — '  Your  money  or  your  life  ?  '  The 
world  asks  everybody  that  question,  and 
we  can  all  choose,  but  almost  everybody 
chooses  money.  You  and  I,  Tom,  will 
choose  our  life,  and  let  the  money  go.  You 
shall  never  go  back  to  that  prison  of  an 
office." 

Tom  was  almost  too  much  moved  to 
speak,  but  after  a  few  minutes  he  managed 
to  inquire,  quite  coolly,  "  How  do  you  pro- 
pose to  work  it  practically?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Janet,  "  luckily  I've  a  lit- 
tle money  of  my  own,  from  grandfather's  es- 
tate. But  if  I  hadn't  I  should  go  to  work, 
too,  just  like  you,  and  earn  as  much  as  I 
could,  to  go  into  the  common  fund,  until  we 
could  both  stop  work  and  begin  to  enjoy  life 
together,  or,  rather,  until  AVC  could  begin  to 
do  the  work  we  should  each  really  choose  to 


YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE?       343 

do.  Of  course  there  are  fortunate  people 
who  have  that  from  the  start ;  lawyers  are 
often  bound  up  in  their  work  and  would 
rather  do  it  than  anything  else  in  the  world, 
and  doctors  sometimes  feel  the  same  way, 
and  some  teachers,  and  literary  men  and 
artists  of  course.  And  I'm  told  that  some 
business  men  really  like  their  business,  though 
that  seems  impossible.  But  most  men  have 
to  do  drudgery  that  they  don't  like,  hard 
work  that  they  can't  put  their  hearts  into, 
merely  to  pay  the  yearly  expenses  of  living. 
And  as  their  money  increases  the  expenses 
of  their  families  increase,  and  they  have  to 
keep  on  in  the  treadmill,  working  harder  and 
harder,  with  never  any  stop,  never  any  time 
to  do  what  they  would  really  like  to  do,  un- 
til they  are  old  men,  and  life  comes  to  an 
end.  And  all  this  while  their  wives  and 
daughters,  dressed  in  expensive  and  stylish 
gowns,  are  attending  fashionable  meetings  to 
assert  the  rights  of  women  and  lament  over 
the  cruel  limitations  and  wrongs  which  men 
put  upon  them.  What  I  say  is  let  them  do 
their  duties  first,  their  share  of  the  work, 
and  talk  about  their  rights  afterward.  So  if 
you  work,  I  shall  work,  too,  only  it  must  be 
work  that  our  hearts  are  in.  But  I  think  we 


344       YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE 

might  have  and  enjoy  our  life  for  a  while 
and  let  the  money  go.  I  can  get  along  with- 
out it  if  you  can.  I've  got  $1,500  a  year 
to  live  on — how  much  have  you  ?  ' ' 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I've  saved — in  spite  of 
myself — something  between  thirty  and  for- 
ty thousand  dollars,"  said  Tom.  "  Call  it 
roughly  $1,500  a  year,  too — that  would  only 
make  $3,000  in  all.  Could  you  keep  house 
on  that,  even  ?  You  certainly  couldn't  have 
horses,  or  furniture,  or  gowns,  or " 

"  I  don't  want  any  of  those  things,  and 
I  don't  want  to  keep  house,"  interrupted 
Janet.  "  I  don't  want  to  '  settle  down.'  I 
hate  settled  people  and  I'm  never  going  to 
settle  myself.  Three  thousand  dollars  a  year 
is  plenty  of  money  to  live  very  comfortably 
on  in  Europe.  We  can  do  as  we  please  and 
dress  as  we  please.  We  can  become  masters 
of  all  the  great  languages — French,  German, 
and  Italian  at  least — in  the  most  delightful 
way  in  the  world,  reading  their  greatest 
writers,  their  Goethes  and  Dantes  and  Mo- 
lieres,  on  the  very  ground  where  they  wrote. 
We  can  see  the  great  pictures,  and  live  in 
the  shadows  of  the  most  beautiful  buildings 
in  the  world.  We  can  know  charming  peo- 
ple, artists,  musicians,  and  writers,  living 


YOUR  MONEY  OR  YOUR  LIFE?       345 

simply  but  surrounded  with  beautiful  things. 
And  we  can  live  as  they  do,  and  every  day 
of  life  will  be  perfect,  and  we  shall  be  growing 
all  the  time,  and  learning,  and  shall  have  so 
many  things  to  enjoy  that  we  can  be  spend- 
thrifts of  enjoyment,  and  yet  always  have 
more  than  enough  left,  because  it  is  some- 
thing that  increases  trebly  with  use.  Where- 
as if  you  stayed  in  the  business,  Tom, 
we  should  give  up  all  these  things  for 
money.  We  should  have  a  fine  house  in 
town,  and  another  in  the  country,  and  lots 
of  servants  and  quantities  of  clothes,  and 
give  fine  dinners,  and  be  fat,  and  prosper- 
ous, and  stupid,  and  bored  to  death. 
Ah,  no,  Tom,  money  costs  too 
much.  You  and  I  can't  afford  to  be  rich. 
We  will  live  instead." 


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